


Reality Check

by midnightcalligraphy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Bonding, Eventual Fluff, Family, Gen, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-02-27 04:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 67,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13240902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightcalligraphy/pseuds/midnightcalligraphy
Summary: One day, America spies on England and Canada and accidentally overhears his brother's true opinion of him. Determined to alter Canada's lonely situation, America soon learns that England's wand, once broken, can grant the conjurer anything they truly desire. Alfred makes a wish to be forever isolated from the other nations, and pretty soon he is thrown into a parallel universe, with no memories of the past. His brother is now an extroverted social butterfly, Alfred himself is an introverted computer hacker, England's convinced he is Sherlock Holmes, and France is pretty much a soccer mom. Oh, and did I mention that America only has a limited time before he and the universe he created falls apart? What more could go wrong? In this small world, anything.





	1. Invitation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Its_Just_Chemistry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Its_Just_Chemistry/gifts).



> I’m dedicating this work to Its_Just_Chemistry. You’ve helped me tremendously to create this work and add some humor to my writing. I can’t thank you enough, and I’m so excited to finally create this piece for you. I know I’m gifting a work to you again that has angst as a tag, but hopefully you can forgive me. I promise they’ll be a fluffy ending.
> 
> I have been excited to start this story for a while now. It’s loosely based off of “Fly, Canada-san, Fly!,” and this is a parallel universe of sorts. Therefore, characterization will be off on purpose in some areas, and it might be a bit headcanony at times. More characters might also be added later on in this fic; I kind of just laid out who I thought would show up. I’ve also added country slang in some areas, and please do correct me if I mess it up. Also, I want to point out that the narrator is anything in italics (besides America’s own thoughts), and America and Canada will be fraternal twins in this fic. As for their ages, personally I think Canada is older, but for this story, they will remain unkown. Finally, I hope you enjoy! I can’t promise quick updates, but they will come!

        That day was just like any other day, that hour was just like any other hour, and that world meeting was just like any other world meeting, meaning everything was absolute chaos. China was struggling to convince Italy that pasta wasn't his own invention, Italy of course was throwing a fit, France was bragging about his own cuisine, the Nordics were somehow having a snowball fight _indoors_ in _June_ , Germany was screaming his head off to no avail, and basically the meeting felt more like a cattle farm than a group of "higher" beings. So yep it was just another boring day in America's life, and these occurrences were nothing more than the usual, everyday nonsense.

        However, if one was paying attention, they would have noticed that Alfred's demeanor was anything but normal that day. In fact, his facial expressions were the exact opposite of anything considered even vaguely typical. America's lips were thin and tilted slightly downwards as if he were in extreme pain but was too exhausted to do anything about it. No words bubbled from his lips as he sat there in silence, dead silence, as his now dull blue eyes glanced at a ceiling title with curiosity. The most striking change though was the fact that his cowlick, Nantucket, was drooping to the point where it barely was sticking out of his head at all. It was as if the poor wisp of hair had given up.

        To be honest, America felt like doing just that. He drowned out the noise of the chaos erupting around him and focused on one thought and one thought only, when he could go home. All he sought to do was lay in bed and sleep his troubles away. Maybe in his dreams he'd find some place where he could slip from reality even for just one moment to glimpse another world other than his own. However, no Alfred had to be in that stiff chair, surrounded by the shouts of his peers, and silent as pain quickly festered within himself. It latched onto his being like a parasite, sneakily invading its way in and devouring him inside out.

        It wasn't as if it had always been like this. Nah, America was supposed to be the optimist! He was the one who would burst into the room with shouts of "I'm the hero" and exspected everyone to comply with their role as backup. He was the one who always ate millions of burgers despite the complaints. Yeah, he was the United States of America for crying out loud! He wasn't supposed to care about something called "self-image," and yet somehow here he was at that spot in time, staring at quite possibly the billionth speck of dust on the ceiling like there was nothing better to do. Despite these current circumstances, America's day hadn't stared off so unfortunate. Well, until _it_ decided to happen, the event that changed everything.

* * *

  
  
        Footsteps echoed down the hallway as the young American strolled along, whistling ever so quietly to himself. Despite his usual laziness, he had somehow managed to get up early for once, and he was silently pondering the chance of catching England once again in the act of drawing chibis. Alfred had even placed his phone in his front pocket at the ready, and he brushed his hand once in a while across the smooth, plastic cover to prepare himself for lunging in at any minute with his camera all set to go. One priceless snapshot, and he'd be the king of social media for weeks! Needless to say, today was a good day. Not only had he arrived at the world meeting ahead of schedule, but the new video game he and Tony had been _dying_ for finally managed to end up on their doorstep, his car was first in line at the usual Dunkin’ Donuts drive through, and the meeting was in his awesome nation of all nations. That meant no red eye flights for him! Yep, everything was going his way...

        "Hello, Canada," came a British voice from out of nowhere. This abrupt action caused America to jump at least a foot in the air, and if he still had a full cup of coffee, there would have been a nasty spill all over his clean shirt. However, he ignored this bit of good luck and instead flattened himself against the wall to do a bit of eavesdropping. After all, England had hardly ever spoken to poor Canada, so since he had somehow noticed the invisible, there had to be something important going on, something worth listening to. Sure Alfred cared about their privacy, but he had to admit that he couldn't ignore a good mystery. Thus, he blended in with the hallway, not daring to venture around the corner lest he was caught in the act.

        "Morning, England," his brother replied in an astonished whisper, "why...um...I mean how...how are you noticing me today. Well,...er I mean normally you think I'm America, so forgive me for being surprised. Am I perhaps looking extra Canadian today, or is there some special occasion that's made you so happy all of a sudden?" _Huh, so he's just as confused as I am._

        "Well, first off you're here early, there's maple syrup in your coffee, and I'm pretty sure America wouldn't be caught dead doing paperwork," England replied with a laugh that made America cringe. _Hey, I take offense to that! I mean I so do paperwork! Right? Hah, what about my saving humanity from global warming ideas? Come on using a superhero to combat this crisis! That's genius if you ask me. I have no idea what England is talking about. Me doing no work? Ha!_ Despite being enveloped in his own musings, he managed to catch his sibling's soft response.

        "I guess you're right about that," Canada whispered quietly. "Still, why are you able to see me? You never do normally..." With that his voice dropped off silently, and America could tell from the long pause that England felt distressed by his words. After all, it wasn't everyday you were told that you completely ignored someone on a daily basis, and the arrow of pain definitely hit its mark.

        "Well, it's your Independence Day next week you dolt," the Brit cried, "so of course I'm noticing you! Blimey, why wouldn't I notice you? Well, I guess I do make some slip ups on occasion..., but you know what, I think I'm just growing old and senile. You will blink for one second, and the next thing you know, I've lost the plot! Hey, you never know I might just happen to end up as some weird cat lady...er cat man."

        "England, you're twenty-three for crying out loud!" Canada pointed out with a chuckle as he relished finally being able to talk to someone for once. "You're not that old! You're practically four years older than I am human age wise; it's not that much of a difference."

        "That's not the way to talk to your elder!" the Brit scolded in return.

        Yet, they both knew he was faking his attitude, and pretty soon snickers could be heard sifting their way out of their mouths. America felt like laughing too, and in fact, he probably would have if he hadn't stuffed his own hand in front of his face. Thus, if anyone had passed by at that moment, it would have been a queer spectacle to see Alfred standing there with hints of “oh my goodness this guy is going to puke,” and “I think he needs to go to a mental hospital” written all over his features. Luckily for Alfred, the hallway was still deserted, and the only signs of life were around the corner.

        "Anyway...are you throwing a do this year?" England questioned once the laughter had finally managed to cease.

        _Do_ , _a term that can mean party in England. For instance, you could say “I’m going to a do today.” Huh, that rhymed._

        "Well, I might yeah," Canada murmured with a sense of sudden joy, "there's going to be poutine and pancakes for everyone, and of course, alcool has to be given out. I was thinking of buying a couple mini-mickeys maybe from my liquor store, but I still haven't gotten my act together. Hm, on second thought, is it really a good idea to get people drunk? Well, maybe I could just stick to pop instead, but there might be an uproar if no alcool is available. After all, that's all they..." That was when his voice dropped all of a sudden, so that it was barely a whisper in the silent hallway.

        "That's all they what, Canada?" the Brit questioned anxiously as he no doubt started to pat the younger nation on the back. That's when the mood started to shift in the room as if someone had turned the thermostat down far too low, and America could felt the hairs on the back of his neck as they stuck up on end. It was as if they were trying to warn him of something, like a disaster was about to unfold before his own eyes. However, by now it was far too late to flee as his legs were frozen in place, and his limbs were unable to move even the slightest inch. If was as if this moment was fated to occur, and there was nothing Alfred could do about it.

        "That's all they ever come for!" Canada finally screeched as his mood swung from pure joy to fits of sobs. Needless to say, England was quick to denounce his words.

        "I'm sure that's not true!" he cried. "I mean they come for..."

        "What for me?" his voice was eerily malicious all of a sudden, and America had to admit even he was afraid. It was not every day that his brother got angry. Well, _that_ angry. In fact, the only time he ever had a bitter mood at all was during hockey games. The thought alone was enough to send shivers down his spine. If he thought a losing Canada was scary, whatever image England was viewing had to be bloody terrifying. Luckily it seemed that the hatred that was bubbling up within his brother was quickly replaced by another fit of choppy sobs. "Face it, England," he choked out, "no one even recognizes me anymore. I mean the only reason you did today was because my well, birthday, is coming up. Otherwise, I'm invisible. Do you know how many times I have been accidentally sat on?! Heck, my own brother! He..."  
  
        His voice caught in the air as if he was imaging himself in one of Alfred's favorite choke holds and was being squeezed to death on accident. America's own throat seemed to clench up as his body slid down the wall, and he landed with a soft thud on the floor.

        "He," Canada continued as his voice once again rose in volume, "he always forgets me, and we are twins for crying out loud! Fraternal twins! I mean how much closer can you get? Oh, and of course everyone always remembers America's birthday, and they always come to America's party despite how obnoxiously arrogant he is twenty-four seven! I mean how many times do we have to hear him screaming "I'm the hero" down the hallway like some show pony, and yet they still choose him over me! I don't get it, England; I really don't. Plus, the problem is I can never seem to speak my mind whenever I'm around him because he's just so _terrifying_ sometimes, so I'm destined to deal with his nonsense for eternity. Eternity!!! Do you have any idea what that is like?!"

        Tears flew down Alfred's cheeks. They were warm, salty tears just like those of his brother only seconds earlier. Both sets were tears of hurt, tears of suffering. However, Canada's were built off of hate. It was a chronic hate that seemed to have been born on piles of resentment for his twin that he had collected over time. Alfred's, on the other hand, were new tears, fresh tears. Sure there had been hardships before in his life like the Revolutionary War and well...the list goes on and on, but this was coming from Canada. This was the man who before today he had considered to be his closest friend, and those words stung more than anything.

        "I completely do not feel sick every single time the Fourth of July pops up, and I so do not refuse to go to his outlandish parties," the elder replied in a sarcastic tone.

        _Not you too, England,_ America mused quietly as he stuck his head in between his legs to cover his weeping. I _get that it hurt, but those battles hit me just as hard as they hit you. Why do you hate me still? Both of you hate me..._

        "Ah...right. Sorry about that."

        "Nah, it's alright," England replied with a slightly lighter emphasis. "No, offense taken. Hey, you are right about America though. The way he's been treating you has been unacceptable! Heck, the way that tosser has been treating everyone has been unacceptable. We are always back up in his eyes aren't we? Hah, nothing but backup, and I raised that wanker myself! You think he would have turned out a bit neater at least!"

        "Yeah, you'd think!" Canada chuckled quietly. "I'm seriously considering wether or not I should invite him to my party, but I know he'll somehow find a way to show up anyway. He always does." With that, America bit his lip and ensconced himself further into his knees, which had now become his pit of despair. _He doesn't want to invite me to his party? But...no this can't be Canada can it? He loves me...I know he does. Besides I'm not that awful...am I?_

        "Just tell him he's not welcome to his face."

        "Nah," Canada sighed, clearly exasperated. "I couldn't do that. He's just so...intimidating sometimes. Besides, he wouldn't miss a chance at promoting his Independence Day, and he's my twin brother after all. I kinda have to invite him even if I regret it. Still, I wish he didn't have to show up with that same darn bottle of maple syrup every year. I guess I do like that stuff...a lot actually, but could he please pretend like he actually knows me!!! Oh, and don't even get me started on his habit of chewing with his mouth open."

        "I know right," the Brit commented with a shout. "I've always tried to get rid of that issue. Back when he was younger..."

        That's it; Alfred couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take their words that were a kin to acid being sprayed on his face. They stung more than anything in the world. Heck, even a gun shot to the head would have hurt him less, and he was the United States of America! Yeah the USA now reduced to nothing but a shaking, crying ball most people would label as a "mess." All he could mange to do with lift himself up off of his feet, drag himself to the nearest bathroom, lock himself in the stall furthest away from the entrance, and drown himself in the misery that was his life.  
  
        _However, if he had stayed a little longer, then the series of events that are about to be placed before you might never have occurred in the first place. If he had been unable to get up, if he had stayed for their conversation, and if he had waited on their every next word, then he would have heard these few words. He would have heard the words that would have altered everything. Ah, but atlas the universe never does work out the way we want to does it? Oh well, here they are anyway..._

        "He definitely has his flaws doesn't he?" England mused as he turned to face the younger nation. "However, in all seriousness, we shouldn't joke like this. He may be a bit of a nutter at times, but he means well. America's just been under a lot of stress lately, and you know that always makes him wonky. Thus, please do try to voice your complaints to his face. I know it might be hard on him and you both, but everything would be better if you'd just tell him what's wrong. That way things will improve, and you both can get on with your lives. Don't keep this resentment bottled up inside of you. Trust me I've been around long enough to know what happens next." He shivered quietly as memories of a certain not so distant Revolutionary War passed through his mind.

        "Yeah, I guess you're right about that," the younger caved, "but I just don't know if I'll be able to. Well, I guess it can't hurt to try now can it?"

        "That's the spirit!" the Brit laughed as he patted Canada on the back. "Now, pick up your things off of the floor, and let's head on inside the meeting room. I always pride myself in getting there early."

        _Yep, this whole catastrophe could have been halted. Funny how things tend to work out._

        Anyway, America eventually made it out of that bathroom after realizing with a start that he was exactly twenty minutes late, and his phone had been going off in a constant rhythm with who knows how many text messages. Alfred somehow fixed the redness that plagued his puffy eyes, and he dragged himself into the meeting room with thousands of angry, worried, and confused pupils glued to his being. When he glanced around the room for a seat, he quickly realized that the only spot available was his usual. The usual that happened to be squeezed right between England and Canada. _Oh, goody this is going to be fun._

        "America, there you are!" came a rather what's the word... **loud** huff from who else but Germany. "Do you know how late you are today?!" Alfred just ignored him and uncharacteristically slouched his way over to the only free space, and all Germany could do was let his voice fall mute just like the others’ as he watched the spectacle unfold before his eyes. However, the meeting had to continue just like the world keeps spinning, and so he took his eyes off of the American and resumed his rather long speech about who knows what.

* * *

 

        So that's how America ended up stuck in between the two nations he so very much wished to ignore at that given moment, and he sat with everyone's eyes glued to his every move in between the spouts of chaos. After all, it wasn't everyday America came in late, had watery eyes, and was _this_ quiet. To some, it was just plain abnormal, and to others it was pretty darn scary. For Canada, it was especially unnerving as the subject of his dissatisfaction was there, right next to him, with a lack of all the traits that made him so annoying in the first place. For Alfred, on the other hand, nothing was more unsettling than the eyes of his brother burning into him as he suffered from utter boredom and trauma from the previous events. He so longed for the clock to finally signal his leave...

        "Alright, I think that is enough for today..."

        America was out the door before Germany could even bother to finish his sentence. _Yes, it's finally over! I can go home now and leave this place behind!!! I'm just going to kick back, relax, and forget that any of this ever happened. No one can stop me now!_ Well, that was until he felt a soft tap on his shoulder as he was racing by at a million miles per hour. Hence, Alfred abruptly slid to a halt to find the panting form of his twin brother behind him. Canada's hands were on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath, and it was clear to America now that he seemed to be weary around him. It was as if he was afraid that Alfred would bite at any second like a rapid dog.

        "Wow," Canada breathed choppily, "you're...in a hurry today...aren't you? Have anything important...that you need to get too?" America just shook his head as he glanced down at the floor boards below him, too nervous to look the other in the eye. "Ah, good," his brother replied as his finally managed to pull together his composure. “I won't be wasting your time then." With that, he pulled out a cream envelope with America's name written on it ever so carefully. "Here's an invitation to my party this year," he continued as he too found the floor below him far more interesting then Alfred's reaction. "I understand that you're probably busy, but if you can go, that would be great."

        America thought he heard the bitter sound of teeth gnashing at that last bit as Canada struggled to hide his ever growing anger. This only made Alfred want to escape from the hall more and most likely cry his head off in his own private bathroom. It was plainly clear to him that his twin wanted to do the same as well as his brother kept scanning up and down from the floor, to his face, to the exit, and back again. _What should I do now? If I actually do show up, won't he just wish I was never there? Yet, if I don't show up at all, then he'll just think he's being ignored, and that won't be very good for his mental state. I suppose I could just say I need time to think it over. He wouldn't mind...right?_

        "Sure, I'll come," his voice replied before his mind had a chance to process any of the information. "It's your birthday after all." _Curse my instincts!_

        "Oh...that's great," Canada replied as he zoomed off without so much as a simple acknowledgement or something at least, and pretty soon the man had vanished into thin air. All that was left in his wake were the hoards of countries struggling to make it through the hallway in order to catch their flights, and America was standing there in the sea of madness. He gripped the envelope in his hand, the object of their now secretly strained relationship. _When did things get this bad?_ America pondered quietly as his fingers traced the letters on the front. _Have we always been this...disconnected? Well, one thing's for sure. The future ain't going to be pretty._ With that, the American joined the sea of fellow countries, and he become one with the mass of pandemonium. The envelope rested ever so ominously inside his back pocket, its information set to be revealed another day, in the not so distance future, when reality would come crashing down on him.

 


	2. Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I guess I just want you to know that, whatever you are thinking right now, I do love you America, as a brother that is,” Canada shouted above the roar. “You’ve always been there for me when no one else was, and I will be there for you now damn it! I will find you, America! I will find you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter took forever! It’s also so much larger than I imagined, and I’m sorry for not being able to post in a while. That won’t get better for a couple of months at least, but I will try my best. Also, I apologize for Tony in this chapter. His character was so hard to work into the plot, so sorry for his OOCness in advance. In other news, the first spell you see is indeed from the show but mixed around. I was going to try for some fancy Harry Potter thing. Then I remembered this was Hetalia, so I made it seem more fitting. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and the next chapter starts the alternate universe! Yay!

        A door knob lay within America’s hand. It was just a regular old doorknob made from brass most likely, and yet for some reason he couldn’t turn it. Yeah, he had strength that could rival Superman, pick up England’s car, and hurl a buffalo, yet he couldn’t turn a single door knob. Nope, he couldn’t do it. In fact, his hand was shaking rather violently as though it was going to fall off his arm and shatter into a billion pieces. _Wow, what a hero you are,_ Alfred laughed internally to himself. _You wake up early, you buy a gift, you drive all the way over here, and you can’t even open a single door! You really are pathetic aren’t you?_ With that, his hand flew back from the knob as though he had just realized it was made out of lava. It didn’t help that he felt like crying too. _See you’re just a wimp! A stupid, arrogant wimp who can’t do anything!_

        America didn’t even know why he bothered to go to Canada’s in the first place. It wasn’t like he wanted to be there, and Canada sure didn’t want him to go either. So why did he even bother? He could be home right now, with Tony. He could be with the only friend who he was pretty sure now was the only one who truly cared about him. _Although maybe he just needs a place to crash,_ Alfred pondered _, and I don’t ask him to pay to live at my place...no I can’t think like that! I have to have someone who likes me right? Yeah, and I’m sure I saw him smile once at me while eating popcorn. I’m sure of it! Wait, he doesn’t have a mouth..._ In conclusion, America had no reason why he showed up in the first place as he silently reflected on that morning’s happenings.

* * *

 

       “You alright?” came a rather high pitched voice all of a sudden that may or may not have sounded like ******* **** *******. Alfred glanced up to see the face of Tony boring holes into his scalp with those red eyes of his. If he wasn’t his friend, the American would have been so terrified in that moment, but instead, he turned his attention towards pretending like nothing was wrong in the first place. So, he stood up straight in his chair, placed a fake smile on his face, and laughed creepily under his breath as though he somehow found Tony’s words funny.

        “Yeah, dude, of course I’m alright,” America snickered as he flashed Tony a toothy grin. “I am the hero after all. Why, did you ask anyway?”

        “Um, you’ve been stirring your cereal for the past um...thirty minutes now,” the alien pointed out as he gestured at his friend’s soggy bowl of Froot Loops.

        _Froot Loops, a brand of multi-colored cereal common in American households, especially in those of young children and adults who think they are young children. While they might be different colors, in reality, they all taste like the same heavily sugared pieces of cardboard that some people actually find appealing. Here’s a fun fact that you probably don’t need to know. The UK version has only three colors: purple, green, and orange. That’s because they’re down with the whole “no unnatural dyes” idea that Americans choose to ignore._

        “Are you really okay,” Tony continued, “because you sure don’t seem like it? You’ve hardly talked to me this morning, you haven’t even touched a phone in who knows how many hours, and you’ve been eating so few hamburgers I am honestly concerned for your health at this point. You know, ever since that world meeting of yours, you’ve seemed a little...”

        “Enough!” America screamed at the top of his lungs as the remains of what had previously been cereal were thrown across the table.

        For once, he actually appeared pretty terrifying. His teeth were snarling as though he was some sort of rabid werewolf, his eyes squinted in a flurry, and Tony was honestly scared that he was going to rip him to shreds and then declare war on his home planet if he didn’t up and flee. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for America to notice the terror written all over the alien’s features as his poor friend shrunk back in his chair fearfully. He quickly sat back in his own chair with a look of pure shock on his face. _Did I just scream at him? Heroes don’t yell at others right? They’re supposed to make people happy! I’m...I’m just like Canada says I am, terrifying._

        “America, buddy, is there something you need to tell me?” Tony questioned after he had gotten over the initial shock and noticed the faint trace of water bubbling up within Al’s eyes. “I’m always here you know. Maybe we can play a quick game or watch a movie before you go? That would make you feel better...”

        “No, no I’m fine,” Alfred replied as he hastily cleaned up the mess on the table. “I’m sorry Tony for that, really. I’ll...just um...go upstairs and get ready. Thanks for the offer though.” With that, he scouted up the stairs with inhuman speed and left the alien behind who sighed in exasperation. He should have known there was nothing he could do to fix the nation. After all, he was as stubborn as all get out, and it was going to take a jackhammer to finally break into that mind of his.

       America leaped towards his room without looking back. He didn’t want to see Tony. Nope, he didn’t want another reminder of anything Canada related, and so he threw himself in his bedroom only to see the...gift he had purchased for Canada. He moaned softly under his breath knowing that, whatever he did, he couldn’t escape his northern brother. So he just picked up the present ever so gently and figured he might as well accept the fact that his brother hated him. Oh, well at least he had bought a genuine gift this year. Well, not like all of his other gifts that he had given him in previous years. Actually they were genuine in a way. America could have sworn his brother did like maple syrup. How was he supposed to know he wouldn’t want it for his birthday over and over again?

        Anyway, he had spent _hours_ this year searching online for the perfect gift, and finally, he had found something decent. _If I like this, then he must too right?_ America thought to himself quietly. _After all, we are twins aren’t we? We have to like some of the same things!_ He let out another deep breath in exasperation as he fiddled with the white ribbon fitted with what else but red leaves like those on the wrapping that enveloped the gift. He was still fiddling with that silky ribbon when Tony crept up the stairs with the stealth of a ninja and peaked those ruby eyes of his in through the doorway. His gasps of shock would have been audible if it weren’t for America’s next few words.

        “Wow, look at how worthless you are,” he cackled at himself as he fingered the wrapping as though he was about to tear it apart. “You don’t even know your own brother anymore.” Tony blinked in surprise as he watched the scene unravel before him, and he flinched when he noticed America making his way towards the door. It wasn’t long before he managed to scramble down the steps as though nothing had happened at all with an expression of grief that matched America’s.

        “Hey, Tony I’m going to head out to Canada’s,” America whispered softly as he flung open the front door. “Try not to burn the house down while I’m gone would ya?” With that, he was gone before the alien had a chance to respond. He just sat there, blinking, with the thought that once he came home they would have a nice long talk about...whatever it was that was going on. Yeah, America would return with his normal bright eyes and blinding smile, and Tony could talk some sense into him. So Tony turned his attention to the TV, sat down, and prepared to drown out his emotions through human entertainment.

        _You know, if he had gone after him, he could have would have saved everyone a bunch of trouble. Oh, well what can you do?_

* * *

        America grimaced as his fingers let go of the knob, and instead, he managed to press the doorbell gently. There was a soft ring following that action, and yet it seemed like a shrill screaming in his mind as though someone was running their nails down a chalk board. _Well, there’s no turning back now,_ he thought to himself as he felt the butterflies rise in his stomach. Moments later he heard footsteps echoing down the hallway, and he bit his lip as the door opened with a soft clang. Matthew was on the other end with a humongous grin that noticeably shrunk the moment he saw the American standing in his doorway. Still, he struggled to put on a cheerful face as he held Kumajirou in his arms.

        “America,” he murmured softly with poorly covered up distain. “You came. You’re...um well twenty-five minutes late you know.”

        “I got lost?” Alfred lied weakly as he very much wanted to hide in his own body. Canada glanced at him quizzically as though he had just declared apple pie unconstitutional. After all, he had been to his house a million times beforehand, banging on his door at random hours in the day. How could he possibly have gotten lost? America grimaced even more as his brother looked at him with those purple eyes of his. _I should have stayed home today and sent him a card or something. I should have stayed home. I should_...However, if Canada had something to say, he kept his mouth shut as he beckoned the American into his maple leaf covered home.

        “Um, here I’ll take that off your hands,” he said all of a sudden as he reached out for the present America was grasping for dear life as it was the only thing he had to hold onto. Canada promptly snatched the gift away from his brother, expecting the usual meaningless item, but he was surprised when he noticed the sheer weight difference. It was such a difference in fact that he almost dropped the gift on his foot if it wasn’t for Alfred’s quick reflexes. He scooped his hands under the box and gently lifted it back up into the other’s arms. Canada whispered a stunned “thank you” before nevertheless heading straight towards the kitchen where France, Italy, China, and Turkey were working their magic.

        “Wait, Canada,” America called hastily when he noticed his brother heading for the fridge. “It’s not that kind of gift. Plus, I’m pretty sure the refrigerator isn’t the best thing for it. It wouldn’t destroy it, but it doesn’t belong there...so yeah I wouldn’t do that.” He kinda muttered out that last part as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck and tapped his left foot on the floor gently. Thank goodness Canada was far too spellbound by his words to notice the anxiety plastered all over his features. Matthew blinked at him for a while looking back and forth between America and the gift with a little “o” on his lips.

       “But you always get me maple syrup,” Canada spoke completely baffled as he shook the package gently. “Every year you get me maple syrup.” By now, there were eyes on America as his slouch began to increase as he struggled to become one with the floor. Even Prussia was glancing at him with upturned eyebrows after previously being enthralled in a lengthy conversation with Germany about how awesome beer was, and Austria too stopped playing the piano... _wait I’m not quite sure how a piano ended up there_...Anyway, it was as though the whole earth has decided to spin the opposite way that day, causing everyone to die in a spontaneous manner.

       “Well...I,” America found himself stuttering for the first time in his whole life. “I kinda just wanted to...switch things up a bit you know? I wanted to make...make it more personalized this year?” Canada finally seemed to register what he was saying and brought the gift over to his coffee table with a tiny skip in his step. He knew Alfred had the capability of putting a hamburger wrapper and a brick in the box for all he knew, but something about America made him feel as though maybe this year was special. That’s why he acted as though he was transformed into a little toddler as he sat down on his couch between England and Hungary and began to unwrap the box at breakneck speed.

        America chose to sit down on the floor for once as all the seats were already taken by the throngs of countries, and he eyed his brother’s enthusiasm with a faint grin on his face. _You know maybe if I continue to bring him genuine presents for his birthday, then maybe he will like me,_ Alfred wondered soundlessly. _No, you’re wrong about that. He may tolerate you, but he will never like you! He’s always standing in your shadow after all._ With that, America’s soft smile quickly turned into a frown as he noticed the face of the all too familiar Brit watching him. England was frowning too, but his was more of an “I’m concentrating frown” as he studied the other for any signs of emotional trauma. The American rapidly took his eyes off him, choosing to stare at Canada. Still, that didn’t stop him from shivering as he felt Arthur’s gaze burning holes in him.

        “It’s a camera?” Canada asked all of a sudden as he leaped back from the box as though it had something to do with sorcery.

        “Oh, that’s not just any camera,” America spoke all of a sudden as a wave of his usual brightness returned. “It’s used by some of my people in National Geographic. I know it might be kinda old-fashioned and setting it up is a big pain in the butt, but it’s supposed to have awesome resolution. Think of all the photos you could take! Plus, this thing can last in -40 Fahrenheit, so I figured it would be awesome for your place! You also like nature so I kinda figured...you might like it?” His enthusiasm waned at the end as though he was having second thoughts on his choice of gifts.

      _Canada can be a pretty cold place. Ottawa just happens to be the second coldest capital in the world! Plus, the record low for temperature is -63 Celsius...brrr. That’s -81.4 Fahrenheit for all you weirdos out there who choose the other system._

        “How much did this cost you?” Canada murmured in wonder at he squinted up at his brother. “It must of been a fortune.” America bit his lip as he stared at his twin. It did cost a fortune to buy it even with the discount, and he seriously hoped that his brother wouldn’t see the gift as “reckless spending.”

        “I just figured um,” Alfred struggled to reply. “I just figured that I kinda owed you for all the maple syrup years.” With that, he glanced back down at the ground, thankful for the curiosity within Canada that kept his attention focused on the camera. After a while though, he stopped playing with it and caught his brother’s gaze once again.

        “Thank you, America,” Matthew murmured softly as he fingered the fallen ribbon, “it’s wonderful.” A smile graced Alfred’s lips for a second, but it soon faded away as quickly as it had started. _Sure, you’ve got the gift down, but it’s going to take more effort on your part before you can have honest relations again,_ he scolded to himself. _People will still mistake him for you, and there is nothing you can do to change that. He’ll always hate you for sure!_ America shuddered at that mental remark, much to Canada’s confusion.

        “Oh...um you’re welcome?” Alfred answered in more of a question than anything else. “I um...think I’m going to use the restroom now if that’s okay. Drinking way too much coke hurts the bladder after all ha ha ha...see ya dudes.” America said these words with so much false emphasis that his voice cracked a bit under the pressure, and his laugh sounded more like a squeaking door hinge than his usual cackle. Still, he went with that deranged excuse of a bathroom break and rushed towards the toilet, so he wouldn’t have to remain awkwardly around his brother any longer. Unfortunately, he had bigger worries than Canada at the moment. You see a certain Brit had decided to follow him.

       “Okay what’s going on?” England finally managed to question once he cornered America in the empty hallway.

       “What do you mean?” Alfred tried his best to answer, an innocent look plastered all over his features.

       “Don’t play games with me, America,” Britain sighed as he tapped a foot on the floor. “You were twenty-five minutes late because you got lost seriously? That’s the best you could come up with? You bought Canada a camera...a camera! Plus, your voice is breaking with every word you say...I guess what I’m meaning to ask is everything alright, poppet?” The endearing term shook the American to the bone. After all, England hadn’t called him that since he was a young colony. It just felt so odd to have the nation who was previously mocking him worried over his well being only days later. Alfred almost wanted to laugh at the irony, but he didn’t have the energy to even say a word.

        I mean how could he when those humongous eyebrows were furrowing in a way that would make even Russia unsettled. He wanted to run away from those brows, far away, where they wouldn’t judge his lifestyle, where they wouldn’t look at him with concern. _Why is he even worried about me anyway?! He hates me right? If so, then this is just an act, it has to be._ Yet, something about those stern emerald eyes made America second guess his own mind as he peered down... _wait a minute that’s interesting._

        England’s wand was sticking out of his pocket, the same wand he always carried around at those random cult meeting things of his. The same wand that always appeared in his Britannia Angel form with the big yellow star on top that looked more like a five-year-old’s toy then a magic device to America. Said wand could grant anyone a wish they truly wanted. _Wait, wasn’t there something England always told me when I was little? Something about wishes...big wishes. Oh, what was it?_

        “Hello, America?” England asked all of a sudden, snapping his fingers in front of the younger nation’s face. “Earth to America. I am talking to you right now.” Alfred’s head jerked up in response as he returned from his daydream to the real world with a sly grin on his lips.

        “Hey, England?”

        “Yes?”

        “What was the myth you always told me when I was younger, about the wand that is?” he asked spontaneously. “It was something about seeking your heart’s desire...” England blinked up at him in surprise as he drew the fancy stick from his pocket. He seemed suspicious at first, but the topic was magic. And so his started to glow in uncontainable excitement.

        “Oh, you’re interested in the wand!” England beamed as though he was about to jump up and down like a toddler. “Well, you’re right that it can grant wishes. I once turned South Korea into a baby, so he won’t annoy the poor lads. It didn’t work though...Anyway, I can preform all sorts of magic with it. But...” he hesitated there with a wicked grin on his face that made America want to lean forward more in anticipation. “I’ll retell that secret I told you years ago. If you break a wand, you can release the greatest amount of magical power in the known universe. With this you can turn back time, reverse aging, alter the past, destroy worlds, create new ones, etc. . You can do all you want as long as your heart wishes for it to occur.”

        With that, he stepped back for a minute with that smug smile of his. It was clear that at last he was proud that he was being appreciated for his magic abilities instead of being ridiculed like normal, and that made him giddy beyond belief. America, on the other hand, had a stricter outward appearance as he was deep in thought. _He said you could change the past right? Well, then maybe I could do that to help Canada! Yeah, he could finally be noticed by everyone! But, how to do it? I can’t just eradicate myself from existence...learned that lesson from “It’s a Wonderful Life.” But, I could separate us somehow to make him the star of the show and fling me into the background! But, how would I go about doing that let’s see. Ah, I could wish that I’m cursed to never find another nation! Well, maybe I’ll meet Canada...but not the others.Yes, that’s perfect! He will grow up with the other nations in the spotlight where he always wanted to be, and I’ll be alone. It’s foolproof!_

        “Why’d you ask about the wand anyway?” England questioned as his expression shifted to serious once more as he glanced at the American actually exposing his thinking in public for once. _Quick America random excuse, random excuse._

        “Oh, you know I just needed more ideas for Disneyland,” Alfred replied with fake haughtiness. “Do you know how much money I make off of it?” He had to admit he did feel weird lying to England like that, but he knew he’d never allow the plan that was currently brewing within his mind to take place if he knew his true intentions.

        “Of course, that’s what you were looking for,” Arthur sighed in emotional defeat as he walked away. “Typical.” That word typical stung Alfred more than anything. _I was just lying this time around, so am I like that all the time? I can’t be can I?_ He watched as the Brit walked away slowly to join in a conversation with Japan about something or another with a slight frown on his face. _Have I always been this way?_ he wondered silently. _This arrogant? If only I could break that wand..._

        That’s when America noticed something. England and Japan happened to be seated at a table with a tablecloth. Yeah, I know I know tables have table cloths...er not all the time. Anyway this one had a tablecloth, and it covered up all the space to the floor. That meant that, if he could somehow sneak under the table, then he could riffle through England’s pocket and find the wand! A somber expression appeared on America’s face as the typical second thoughts flooded his brain. _Do I really want to do this?_ he questioned soundlessly. _I can still mend things with Canada. It can’t be that hard right?_ Yet, no sooner had he thought those words then he dove under the table like a dolphin after a school of fish and eased his way under the tablecloth on his hands and knees.

        _Is it dove or dived? Well, neither is incorrect; however, dived is more popular in English outside of North America. Dove also appears more often in Canadian writing than American._  
  
        _Nice army crawling,_ Alfred murmured inwardly to himself as he eased his way over to the wand, clearly sticking out of England’s green pocket. _Okay now all you have to do is not screw this up._ However, that task was no easier said than done for as his fingers stretched out, the Brit decided to shift in his seat.

        “Disneyland?” he scoffed bitterly as he rammed his fist against the table. “Can you believe it?! All that git wanted was more ideas for his bloody consumerism. I could have sworn I taught him better!” He shifted in his seat just enough to make Alfred miss the wand as he grunted in exasperation.

        “Are you sure he wasn’t just trying to change the subject?” Japan muttered ever so quietly much to England’s surprise.

        “What?”

        Arthur’s stunned expression was just what America needed to finally slip the wand out undetected. He did feel evil he had to admit, but there was something about his tiny heist that filled him with pride. Yeah, it was as though a giddy sensation flooded over him like a wave crashing back to shore. Then again maybe it was the wand that was pumping magical energy into him that made him feel on top of the world. Yep, that was probably it. He managed to sneak away as Japan once more repeated the question much to the other’s confusion. Alfred could care less about what they thought about him now though. He had the wand, and that was all that mattered.

        “Hey, America!” came a shout from out of nowhere that almost made said country have a heart attack. “We were thinking of settling up that camera and taking a photo of all of us on the couch. That sounds fun, eh?” After he realized that he wasn’t actually caught red-handed, America let out a sigh of relief as he hid the wand in his jacket and smiled over at Canada. He nodded his head quietly in return as he walked over to where his brother had started a collection of people, all talking happily amongst themselves.

        “America, there you are,” Finland shouted happily upon seeing him. “I have a joke for you. Knock, knock.”

        “Um, whose there?” Alfred questioned in return as though he forgotten how these things worked entirely. Shivers ran down his spine as he continued to feel the wand’s energy seeping into him. It was getting a bit eerie now as though the wand was taking revenge for being stolen from its caretaker. Finland just blinked back at the American in confusion as he wondered wether or not he should continue with the joke. He wondered if perhaps the fun could be put off for a bit, so he could get that uneasiness out of his mind.

        “Um, America are you okay?” he wondered out loud. “You’re not acting normal.” The other just shrugged in return as though he’d much rather be hiding under a piece or furniture right then and there.

        “Yeah, I’m alright,” Alfred replied hastily as he thought of ways to quickly change the subject. “Oh, Canada I was wondering something. Who’s going to take the picture of all of us?” There’s no timer on the camera I don’t think.” At those words, Lithuania appeared as though he’d had too much caffeine.

        “I’ll be happy to do it,” he yelled joyfully as he bolted behind the device. “I never did like photos anyway...” Before he could finish his statement, a shout arouse from out of nowhere. It was a shout that rattled the house to its very foundations like an earthquake, destroying everything in its path. It made everyone want to clamp their hands over their ears in pain, but for America, the suffering was a hundred times worse. It was as though the sound drove knives into his heart and each one was more painful than the last.

        “America, where are you?!” came the scream of one pretty pissed off Englishman. “You took my wand; I know you were the one! Give it back to me now, or I swear I’ll tear you limb from limb. You’ll never see the light of day ever again! I’ll burn your White House, I’ll steal all your electronics, I’ll dismantle your WiFi...” America though the War of 1812 take two was terrible, but that WiFi comment sent him into pure panic mode. _Hide_ , his brain told him frantically. _Hide and never come out ever again._  “I’ll rip open your body and tear out your intestines...” _And now it’s getting even more bloody, lovely. America shivered in fear as he bolted away from the group._

        “Wait wand?” Canada questioned suddenly as he glanced over at his twin sprinting away. “You stole England’s wand? On my birthday? Typical America trying to get attention! I knew I should never have...” his words froze in his mouth as he caught sight of his brother’s current petrified state. He was not haughty like he thought he would be; no, he was abnormally terrified out of his mind. Plus, his use of the word typical appeared to send him over the edge as tears threatened to splash down onto his cheeks. Canada almost want to rush in and give him a hug if it wasn’t for the furious Englishman that came running in.

        “I knew you were up to something,” England grunted completely red-faced as though his whole body had caught on fire. “That Disneyland comment was just a lie wasn’t it? You just wanted the wand for yourself didn’t you? You wanted that awesome amount of power, so you could be on top like you always dream of. Well, I’m going to say this once and once only. Give me back my wand, and no one gets hurt. Keep it with your bloody self, and I’ll...huh?” That’s when England noticed the same thing as Canada, the tiny spots of water threatening to pour down from America’s face. Okay maybe not threatening perhaps actually pouring down from his cheeks, but he was pretty skilled at flicking them out of the way. After all, he was America, and he was ready to give Belarus a hug before he ever cried in front of anyone. Plus, he kept backing up at England’s advances as though he had some contagious disease.

        “America, come on now,” Britain whispered as the American soon found himself backed up against the wall. “Hand me back my wand, and this will all be over. Forget what I said earlier alright? Just give it back. Come on, lad.” He held out his palm outstretched as he glanced at the other intently with a hint of concern in those green eyes of his. Yet, Alfred was far too entranced by his own musings to focus on those words. It was a while before anyone in the room mustered up enough courage to say anything as an awkward silence came upon them. Canada too was unable to speak despite a clear expression of “I’ve got to figure out what’s bugging him so much.”

        “I’m sorry,” America burst out in a fit of nerves, “but I have to do this, I have too.” England’s eyebrows raised at the words “I have to.” However, before he could leap towards the wand, the other had already started the spell. “Santo Rita Ringo Meada Tito Jonah Marlon Jack La Toya Michael Janet Dumbledora The Explorer,” he chanted with two hands grasping either end of the wand tightly. _Is that the spell England uses at his meetings? I think that’s right...well at last I got all the names down. That’s got to count for something._ “Santo Rita Ringo Meada Tito Jonah Marlon Jack La Toya Michael Janet Dumbledora The Explorer,” he repeated, this time with a clearer and louder tone as though a fire had been lit within himself.

        As soon as those words filtered out of his lips, the Brit flew for the wand, but it was too late. America had managed to conjure up a barrier of crackling blue energy between himself and the others, meaning one thing. Unless they could convince him otherwise, he was going to get what he truly desired, a better life for Canada. There was a wild look about him now as though he had driven himself into a hysteric madness.

        “Don’t break that wand!” England cried out, his hands pounding on the energy barrier as Canada moved to stand behind him.

        “I’m going to break it!” America insisted with his two hands poised at the ready.

        “Don’t break it!”

        “I’m going to break it!”

        “Please, America,” Canada spoke with a surprising amount of confidence, “just give the wand back to England, and this will be all over. There’s no reason to use it anyway. You have everything you want right now...right? There’s nothing worth fighting over.” Alfred gazed over at his brother, his find fixated on his tiny plea.

        “Well, I guess I have everything I want I suppose,” America murmured quietly, “but you sure don’t. I guess...I guess this is yet another present from me to you. Happy birthday, Canada.” Matthew struggled to comprehend his twin. He struggled to understand what felt like a foreign language to him. After all, that’s couldn’t be Alfred! No, his brother was the hero, the one who would giddily slam him in the face with a baseball. This was not his twin; no, it was an imposter. And yet that “you sure don’t” comment jarred him more than anything. He jumped towards the blue wall too, longing to say that he did have everything. Canada had America and sure he was a big pain in the butt most of the time, but he was family. That was what mattered. Yet, alas like England he was too late.

        “I wish...” America spoke, trembling as his body shook unconsciously. “I wish that I never met a single other nation...well except Canada, I will be isolated from them, and Canada will be the center of attention forever.” With those words, his hands snapped the wand cleanly in half with a loud crack. For a while, there was absolute quiet as though time in that moment had decided to halt entirely. Then there was a roar of bewilderment with a French cry of “Oh mon Dieu!” and other various gasps that filled the room with a giant clamor. That’s when they all saw it, a black hole stationed behind the American no bigger than a dime. This spiral rapidly started to expand in a whirlwind, dragging everything into it including America himself.

        “George Henry Victoria Elizabeth William Edward Charles Anne!” England screamed all of a sudden as soon as the wall of blue managed to fizzle out as the black hole started to suck in all its energy. As it did so, the Brit appeared to chant even louder in a frantic haste as though America’s life depended on it, and in a way, it did. England stared with tears in his eyes at him as he spoke those names, desperately trying to complete the spell. “Here my words!” he yelled after a while of name chanting. “Let the curse last only until this same date, and then let it be no more! This will not last forever; no, it will fall apart. And, wand, appear to America in the other world, guide him through the dangers of magic. All of these things I declare!”

        With that, a green pulse seemed to flow about the room despite the lack of magical symbols. It was as though England’s own will was making those words come true as he forced all of his energy into them, glancing wildly up at the dusty blond.

        “Listen, America!” he panted after his declaration. “I don’t know why you wished that, although I have a pretty good suspicion why, but you’ve got to listen to me. This curse _is going to break_ I made sure of that. After all, if you allow it to continue, _our whole existence will fall apart,_ so no, I’m not being selfish. I know I said you can wish anything with a wand break...but changing reality is the trickiest of them all! You could create...no I don’t want to think about it.” It was as that moment that the swirling vortex picked up America in a greater spout of violence, and he let out a yelp as his arms spluttered out, struggling to grab hold of a coatrack. “Oh my we’re running out of time then,” England cried hysterically. “Well, here’s one last thing. You must find the other me, America! Find him, and he can figure out how to undo the curse. You can do this!”

        America blinked wearily down at the Brit admittedly furious beyond belief that he had tampered with his plans, but at the sound of “our whole existence will fall apart” his eyes opened as wide as saucers. It was then that he realized just what he had done, and it terrified him more than anything. He gazed back at the black hole now in a fright, his body struggling against the sheer force of the spiral to stay grounded.

        “America!” came one last shout as Canada rushed up and grasped his brother by the arm as he was dragged further and further away from him. “How...why would you wish such a thing? I don’t understand!” That was when said twin’s feet began to be fully tugged into the swirling blackness, and he realized just how short their time together was. “I guess I just want you to know that, whatever you are thinking right now, I do love you America, as a brother that is,” Canada shouted above the roar. “You’ve always been there for me when no one else was, and I will be there for you now damn it! I will find you, America! I will find you!”  
  
        America’s face of complete and utter desperation and longing was the only response he received as his fingers slipped from Canada’s grasp, and all the contents of their universe was sucked into the swirling mass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I don’t actually hate Froot Loops.


	3. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve got to go!” America screamed with new found strength. “Leave me be, and save yourself. I would never forgive myself if you died today. Now go, Canada! Run and don’t look back. Did you hear me? Run!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am pretty surprised that I finished this quickly considering I am a slowpoke who procrastinates a ton and doesn’t sleep half the time. Anyway I had to post tonight because I’m going away for about a week and a half on vacation, and I won’t be able to write or answer emails. So yeah that’s a bummer that I thought I’d warn you about. Also, yay third chapter! This one though, if you thought the last chapter was agnsty, is ten times worse. I’m sorry for that really. It was either do this scene or have America and Canada meet thinking “Who the heck is this dude?” This is why America’s wish was worded so weirdly. The fluff/fun stuff also doesn’t come until next chapter, but don’t worry it will be there! It might take a lot longer than this chapter, but it will be there.
> 
> There are also some small headcanons in this chapter. You can choose to ignore them if you like, and if you have any questions/comments about anything/I’m being annoying don’t be afraid to email me with the link in my profile. I won’t be able to answer for a bit while traveling, but I’m always open.

_Warning: Happy fluff and then sudden painful angst. You hath been warned. Also, random small headcanons will appear._

  
Place: Near Jamestown, Virginia  
Time: Around the 1610s  
Universe: Take Two

        The sun shown brightly down on the meadow as a soft clacking sound filled the air. Clack, clack, clack came the noise quite tirelessly as though it could go on forever. Indeed, America almost wanted it to as he bashed a round rock against his current masterpiece, a simple arrowhead mixed with a whole bunch of sweat and elbow grease. It shown in the lighting. It shown like the highlights in his brother’s eyes as he watched him chip away at his own project with glee, a smile wide on his lips as he beamed at the other. He wanted that moment to last for eternity with the warmth of the sun on his back and Canada besides him. It was as though time had stopped then and there, and even the wind slowed in its course, gently brushing against the blades of grass.

        “How’s your arrowhead coming along?” came that quiet voice America knew all to well.

        “It’s going amazingly,” he replied with a bit of a smirk. “I bet mine’s sharper then yours right now! Just look at my awesome work! It’s so sharp, I could so hit a deer with it.”

        “What no way?! Mine’s so sharper!”

        “Um, yes way!”

        _Arrows and bows were first invented in Africa around 64,000 years ago. Yes, there’s actually something older than China! Around 3,000 BC, said tools started to show up in North America. However, most arrowheads you’re probably familiar with were most likely used as spearheads as they tended to be too heavy. These arrowheads were made out of quartz in forms such as jasper, chert, quartzite, and flint through a process called flint knapping. How the arrowheads manage to sleep the whole entire time while being bashed with another rock I have no idea._

        “See watch me touch it,” Chibi America shouted defiantly as one of his fingers pricked the thin edge of his masterpiece. “Wait ah it hurts! It hurts, Canada, it hurts! Help me!!! I’m going to bleed to death!!! That was a mistake. Ah, the pain! The terrible pain!” Canada shook his head as laughter bubbled its way out of his lips as he watched Alfred run around, clutching an index finger desperately. The finger itself was far from “bleeding to death,” and it looked more as though he had gotten a paper cut of some sort, a tiny drop of blood appearing on the skin. Still, that didn’t stop Matthew from rushing up to his side, desperately trying to stifle his laughter as he knelt down besides the sobbing America.

        “Shush now it’s alright,” Canada whispered with care as rubbed moss on the wound to absorb the blood. “Here let me help you with that. See there you go all better.” America stopped crying to look up at his brother with wonder. It was as though he was the ultimate healer in his mind, the one that would always come and save the day. He was his hero, but he’d rather go up against a wolf than admit that to his face. After all, he was America! He was the star of his own rodeo. Yet, that didn’t stop him from showing his appreciation.

        “Thank you, Canada, for making me feel all better!” America cried as he flung his arms out towards his twin, embracing him in a tight bear hug. The other barely was able to breathe as his lungs struggled to inflate with the super strength of Alfred squeezing him to death. He wanted to cry and flail his arms around, but with a lack of oxygen, there was little he could do but make chocking noises. America seemed happy too with a wide grin from ear to ear and shining eyes with tiny stars in them just like the night sky. He almost didn’t want to let go of the embrace if it weren’t for the tiny stars he started to see elsewhere that began to cloud his vision.

        “America...please...eh let me go!” Canada managed to muster out as he felt the pressure drastically decrease around his waist.

        “Oh, sorry guess I don’t know my own strength,” was America’s reply as he let his arms loosen into a gentle embrace of the other.

        They stood there for what seemed like hours. Alfred wept his last tears into Matthew’s shoulder as he gently massaged his finger tenderly, and Canada just smiled as he took in America’s warmth. There was something comforting about their hugs. Maybe it was the fact that Canada always reminded him of sweet maple syrup or America’s earthy scent conjured up images for Canada of Alfred playing with bunnies one too many times. Whatever the reason, it came down to this. The only person they had as family was each other, and they cherished every moment of company they could get even if it meant one large “sapathon.”

        “Hey, Canada?” America asked after a while when their hug finally dissolved itself.

        “Yeah?” said brother replied as he took the time to rub at his aching rip cage, survival wounds from the great embrace. “What is it?”

        “Well, are you done with your arrowhead yet?”

        “Yes, I am,” he murmured as he placed his finished work within Alfred’s hand. “Why what do you want with it?”

        “You’ll see,” was all America answered with that kind of twinkle in his eye that made Canada automatically know he was up to something.  
  
        You see he had his idea face. It was the kind of face he grew immediately suspicious of and yet curious of all at the same time. It was the kind of face that kept him entertained twenty-four-seven despite the boredom of only Alfred as a companion, and he watched with fascination as America proceeded with his plan. Said plan involved striking the rock rather deliberately as though he was afraid the jasper was going to break apart before his very eyes. Plus, rather than a round stone, he used some sort of chisel, carefully carving something into the surface of the arrowhead with expert precision.

        Canada was about to ask what in the world America thought he was doing when his brother extended a closed hand towards him and plopped something within his palm. He just blinked at the other in confusion before slowly unraveling his fingers, revealing the present inside. Much to his surprise, there was now a tiny carving on the surface of the jasper so delicate Canada feared a little rain could easily erode it away. It was a maple leaf just like those on his favorite kind of tree with pointy ends and “veins,” and despite America’s sloppy handwriting, the leaf looked so lifelike he thought it might fly away. He was speechless as he gapped with his mouth wide open, a finger gently tracing over all the lines Alfred had ever so gently dug into the stone.

        America appeared to smile even wider, if that was even possible, as he revealed to his twin his own arrowhead, fit with the image of a bald eagle with its wings stretched out to the sky. Matthew just gazed in wonder as he wondered how on Earth he had managed to create the variation in color with just a simple carving. It was as though, like the leaf, this eagle was going to come alive and bite someone’s head off. Canada also smiled a little bit at the two symbols, knowing without a doubt that they symbolized the little nicknames they had for each other. You see most kid have handshakes or secret passwords, but they had double identities. For instance, America, after jumping off a rock in a quite unsuccessful attempt at learning how to fly, was named Migizi, or bald eagle, and Canada...well Canada was Ininaatig, aka. maple tree. _Wait why does everything involving me have to do with maples?!_ Canada screamed in his head as he stared at his own arrowhead.

        _Bald eagles are a load of false advertising. The most obvious evidence of this is the term “bald” which refers to the white color of their heads, not an apparent lack of feathers on their scalp. Second, their cry isn’t actually that awesome whatsoever! Have you ever heard a bald eagle? They sound like a puppy’s whimpers after being denied dog biscuits. The epic, ear piercing screech you tend to hear in some movies and cinema happens to come from the red-tailed hawk. Finally, most pictures you see of bald eagles are actually females as they are bigger than their male counterparts! Yep, the majestic birds are not so majestic after all. They sure do make great tattoos though._

        _Also, the nicknames that Canada and America have in universe two come from the language of the Objibwe people. These Native Americans lived in both nations around south western Quebec and Minnesota, and, despite variations in Objibwemowin, the language is one of the second most common of native dialects within Canada._

        Anyway, America eventually took back the arrowhead from Canada as he ever so carefully drove two minuscule holes into the bottom, and, with Matthew’s eyes watching his every move, he threaded a bit of leather through the arrowhead. This way, when Canada walked towards him, he was able to chuck the object right at his neck, so it hung down on his chest like a necklace.

        “See look now we’re twining,” America chuckled with a humongous smirk. “That’s a word that I just made up, twining. How much do you want to bet it’s going to be popular in the future?” Canada rolled his eyes as his brother put his own arrowhead necklace over his head, but his clear admiration for the gift was apparent from ear to ear. He held the stone like it was a part of his soul, like it was the part that would always keep America with him, and years from now he would remember this. He would remember his bleeding fingers from one too many cuts from way too may slip-ups while knapping, the sunlight pouring down upon them, and the utter peacefulness that he received whenever he had his brother besides him.

        “Hey, um, dude?” America questioned all of a sudden, his nose sniffing the air. “Do you smell something burning?” Canada glanced up in surprise before joining his twin in breathing in deeply. Sure enough the breeze was filled with an unusual smokey scent that seemed to hang over the meadow like a cloak, and whatever it was that was the cause behind it sent chills up Canada’s spine.

        “I’m sure it’s just a bonfire,” he whispered quietly as if to reassure himself more than anything else.

        “Yeah maybe.”

        All of a sudden, a huge bang filled the air. It was like nothing Canada or America had ever heard before. They tried to put the foreign sound in categories in their mind. _This is thunder,_ America thought to himself silently. _Yes, definitely thunder._ Yet, the two of them knew for a fact that the sound was not in fact thunder. They knew that from the queerness of it all that began to creep over them into their very souls. This sensation only grew worse as they noticed clouds rolling in over the trees after the bang. No, wait a minute. Those weren’t clouds! Nope, it was smoke. It was thick, dark smoke billowing from the edge of the forest that kept building and building and building until it covered the sky in a ginormous mass. Canada and America both looked at each other right then and there, frowns evident on their faces. Something was happening, and neither of them liked it one bit.

        That’s when they heard it. A second bang even louder than the first seemed to shake the very air with its mighty roar as the sound resonated through the air. Seconds later, birds flew overhead. They were crows to be exact, and these crows were cawing their heads off. It was as if they were trying their best to warn them about the oncoming Armageddon that was about to occur, and the twins automatically took note. With one glance at each other, they looked once more back at the grass they loved so dearly before making a break for the other end of the woods where shelter awaited them. They were just in time too for, as soon as they reached the trees, the first bits of meadow erupted into flames.

        _When English settlers first arrived in 1607 in Jamestown, Native Americans attacked one of their ships for fear of the Spanish. Darn Europeans and their throwing people into slavery! Anyway, eventually the Natives warmed up to Captain John Smith and crew, and Powhatan offered the colonists food. A trading relationship started to form, and all was good. That is all was good until 1609 when Powhatan realized the English were not there for sightseeing. No, they intended to stay. So men began to kill the settlers’ livestock and burn their crops. In return, the English burned Native American villages and corn which was a pretty stupidly bad idea since they had no food. Eventually a truce was called later on, and Pocahontas married John Rolfe which eased the tension. So yeah way to go Disney and that accurate cough portrayal cough. Altas, unfortunately it was these same flames that enveloped the Native American villages that crept up on the two brothers._

        “We have to get out of here!” America yelled as he ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. “I don’t know where those noises came from or what caused them, but I definitely don’t want to find out.” He shivered whilst running as he glanced over at his twin. Canada was surprised in that moment to see the fear that had washed over him. America never liked to show his fear in public (okay except when storms decided to scare the two half to death), and the very sight of the uncontrollable tears cascading down his cheeks was enough to make Canada have what felt like a mini heart attack. He too began to cry as icky sweat poured down from his forehead.

        “Yeah agreed,” he panted as he struggled to keep pace with the swift American, “we’ve...got...to stick...together.” America nodded at his brother in confirmation, too tired to speak now as his little legs began to stumble from the fatigue. It didn’t help of course that the smoke was slowly approaching them like a zombie with its arms stretched out. It sure seemed slow, but it gained on them faster than the two of them thought possible. Yet, both of them couldn’t look back. No, looking back would have been suicide. Hesitating would have meant their immediate death, and the brothers weren’t about to let that happen to any of them. As the chilling sound of crackling wood grew, they forced themselves to carry on. They forced their bodies to be pushed to the limit lest they fall prey to the flames.

        “Ah!” America cried all of a sudden as he stumbled abruptly, he body flying threw the air. With a large thump, his chest landed on the ground as a loud whimper escaped from his lips. It was clear to Canada that he had tripped over a tree root and his tiny foot was ensnared in nature’s perfect trap. He wriggled and he wriggled, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t wrench his limb out of the root’s hold. Matthew yelped in surprise as he ran over to his fallen brother, his hand automatically grasping the other’s. He attempted to pull his twin out of his predicament. He tried, he tried, and he tried some more, but America’s foot wouldn’t budge no matter which way he twisted it. Canada yelled and screamed and used the last bits of energy he still had within him, but it was no use. He was stuck, and there was nothing he could do about it.

        America glanced up at Canada in pure terror, his eyes as wide as saucers. He gazed jerkingly back at the fire brewing behind them. It was getting closer; that much was obvious from the blinding orange and thick clouds of smoke. In a couple minutes, the flames would reach the two of them, and they would be sitting ducks. It was that fact that petrified Alfred more than anything. _He can’t just stay here with me,_ America thought hurriedly in his mind. _No, then he will burn along with me. I can’t just have him die! I can’t be the reason for his death! No, he has to survive. He’s got to! He will live, or so help me I will beat the spirts to death and bring him back down to Earth myself!!!_ Alfred took a moment to take in Canada’s face. He loved the rush of concern that washed over him, he loved the way his eyebrows furrowed in worry, he loved him with his soul, and that is why he said these words.

        “You’ve got to go!” America screamed with new found strength. “Leave me be, and save yourself. I would never forgive myself if you died today. Now go, Canada! Run and don’t look back. Did you hear me? Run!”

        “No!” Canada yelled louder than he ever thought was possible. “I’m not leaving you! Not now and not ever! We’re twins remember, and twins stick together!” Splashes of tears hit the ground as he continued to tug as his brother’s arm.

        “You idiot get out of here!” Alfred begged again. “Please you have to leave. Please...” He broke down in that moment, any signs of bravery gone as he sobbed his heart out. Ginormous, ugly tears hit the ground, each one more painful than the last as though they were made of acid. Canada glanced one more time at him before before a wave of determination crashed over him. With one look at America, he knew what he had to do.

        “Fine I’m running away then,” he spoke defiantly, “but I’m running to get help. Someone is bound to have a tomahawk, and I’m going to use it to set you free. Yeah, that’s right! If I’m staying alive, then you’re joining me! We’ll get through this, together!” With one more gaze back at America’s trembling form, he bolted through the trees. He kept his eyes locked forward as he ran. Yes, he didn’t look backwards at his brother’s sobbing body, crying at him to never come back. Alas, Canada was on a mission, and no one, not even Hungary, was going to get him to change his mind.

        His ran like the wind with his legs outstretched in front of him. By now, there was a clear aching sensation in his chest, but he chose to ignore it. He chose to ignore the terrible pain sifting through his body, the beads of sweat that clogged his vision, and the stinging of his eyes from one too many tears. Canada didn’t care about them. He only cared about America, and that was all that mattered. _You’re my only family, my only friend,_ Canada thought quietly as the wind howled around him, _and I don’t know what I’d do without you. Heck, I don’t think I could live without you, and that’s a fact. I’d never be happy._ Matthew screamed out his pain. He screamed and screamed, wanting desperately for someone to listen as he bobbed between the trees. Their branches cast eerie shadows on the ground in the dark lighting as though they too would entangle him. Shivers passed over Canada just from thinking about it as he listened fearfully at the roar of the fire growing behind him.

        “Sacrebleu!” came an abrupt shout as Matthew hit something rather large and hard at top speed. It turns out that something was a person. That much Canada knew as he glanced up in awe, his mouth agape at the sight of the man standing in front of him. He had long, flowing blond hair not unlike his own with blue eyes the color of the sky, and some wisps of stubble clung to his chin. Yet, that was not the most surprising feature about him. No, what was more increasingly terrifyingly shocking was his purple clothing. It was made of some fabric Canada had ever seen before except on him and Al of course, and it creeped him out more than anything and yet filled him with awe at the same exact time. _He’s certainly no native of this place,_ he wondered to himself. _Who is this guy?_

        _This part is not very accurate historically, but hey, whatever. This is an alternate universe, and with them, anything can happen._

        “Oh, my my,” the behemoth of a man chuckled to himself, “what have we here? You’re not some normal human now are you, mon petit? Wait until I show you to Angleterre! He’s going to be so jealous that I found you first! Oh, hang on a second. What are you crying about, mon cher?” Canada glanced up at the other with full on waterworks drenching his little face. He looked up at the stranger with a bit of wariness and yet worry at the same time. Could he really trust this guy? _Well, there’s no time for trust now,_ Canada decided hastily. _America needs my help, and this guy looks like he has some sort of shabby thingy with him. There’s no time to loose! I’m coming for you Al!_

        “My brother’s in trouble!” he yelled in a fit of tears as he hugged the mysterious man desperately. “He got stuck...and now...now he’s trapped! The fire’s gonna get him if we don’t get there in time! Please you’ve got to save him. Please!” The purple-clad man blinked at Canada a few times in shock before a grave frown eased its way onto his lips. With one look at the sobbing child in front of him, he bolted into action.

        “Don’t worry I’ll save him,” stranger spoke with a look of determination as he sprinted towards the direction Matthew had come from, “for I am the nation of France. And as a frenchman, we never leave behind someone we love. No, we’d walk through thorns to rescue them. Now, let me help you, and show me where your brother is.” Canada nodded his head quickly as a sense of brief relief crashed over him. _We’re going to find America_ , he noted confidently in his mind. _This man...er France is a nation after all. We nations can do anything._ With that, his confidence was restored as his short little legs struggled to keep up with the towering adult besides him.

        “This way,” Canada called with his newfound bravery as his feet jumped over logs, crushed leaves, and stray rocks. By now, he was feeling the fatigue quite forcefully. His lungs were burning, inflamed with a desperate need for oxygen, and his legs felt like they didn’t belong to him anymore. No, they felt numb as though they were going to fall off at any second. He wanted to slow down his pace, to stop and take a nice long nap, but he couldn’t. No, he had to keep running towards the fire as everything within him ached worse than any kind of pain he had ever experienced before. Images of America filled his mind in that moment. They were what drove him on, what gave him strength to keep moving despite the pain.

        “Ow!” he cried all of a sudden as he tripped over a jagged stone in his haste, the sharp edge tearing off a bit of his dress thingy. Blood soon started pouring out of a huge gash on the side of his leg as he clutched it desperately, trying his hardest not to cry more than he already was, but the agony of the wound stung bitterly. France abruptly halted his sprinting and spun around on a dime, automatically examining the injured child. He was conflicted in that moment, wondering wether to search for the mysterious brother on his own or look after the small nation. It was clear from his facial expression that either choice would have left him in eternal misery.  
  
        “Pick me up!” Canada screamed in order to make a decision for him. “Don’t worry about my leg for now. We can fix and tend to it later! Right now, we’ve got to find him. I’ll tell you where to go.” France stared in awe at the maturity of such a small child. It was as if, through all this, Canada was thrust into adulthood, sacrificing his wellbeing so a life could be saved. It almost left him speechless. Immediately the frenchman scooped up the little one in his arms as he groaned a bit from the extra weight. No matter how light Matthew was, it sure didn’t help to have to carry extra pounds, but he did it anyway. He spun around through the trees with expert precision as he allowed himself to be guided by the child he was holding. It was not long before they reached the correct spot. Flames had already breached the area. They latched onto the trees with fervor as they lit everything up in a blaze. The heat was almost too much for the young Canadian. He felt like he had a fever as he gazed around at the patch of woods, sweat pouring down from his face as he examined the forest floor. America was no where in sight. That’s right he just vanished. There were no happy calls from him yelling at the rescue party at the top of his lungs. There was no waving of hands from behind a tree. There was no sign of him in sight. _Oh, wait a minute,_ Canada wondered to himself, _what’s over there?_ Right where America had been ensnared in the root trap, he could just barely make out a bit of white fabric flapping in the wind. Fabric that soon burst into a ball of fire. It didn’t take a genius for Canada to figure the rest out.

        “He’s gone,” he murmured quietly in utter disbelief. “We were too late.” Matthew spoke those words as if he didn’t believe them himself. After all, how could he believe them? Alfred was alive only moments ago with the wide grin of his, wheat-colored hair, and blue eyes that reminded him of the heavens above. That was America, his brother, and now that America was burnt to a crisp in the flames. It was too much for the poor little one to handle. “America’s dead,” he croaked out as he hid his face in France’s shoulder. He’s actually dead! This can’t be happening. It’s not happening! My brother is alive damn it. He’s alive...”

        It didn’t take long for Canada to completely break down. His whole body grew limp as he was wracked by pain. There was the physical, the sharp bits of suffering that came from his hurt limb and the weakness of his body from running his heart out. Then, then there was the psychological. The emotional agony was the worst of it. He cried and cried and cried, but nothing could be done to change his reality. His brother was dead, and he knew that after someone passed over, there was no coming back. That was the bit that sent him to the breaking point as he screamed ugly shouts as the fire raged on. He didn’t even notice as France abruptly sprinted away from the scene, hoping to rescue them both from the deadly fire as his legs sprinted out in front of him.

        They jumped over rocks, fallen tree branches, and miniature streams in their haste, but Canada didn’t stir from his crying. Many times they were close to death themselves, and France just barley dogged a couple of flaming twigs. In the end, he had gotten lucky. He ran all the way into the beast and back out of it, and all he had was a case of laborious coughs as he struggled to deal with the smoke that had filled his lungs. Plus, he had an even greater problem to deal with, the child. After the loss of his brother and frankly before then even, France had made up his mind. He was going to take care of Canada no matter what and see to it that he grew up under his care and guidance. Yet, that meant the hardest task of all. He had to get Matthew over the piece of himself that he was missing, a piece that was impossible for him to ever get back again.

        _Okay you might be thinking I did not sign up for this just to see America die! After all, this story is supposed to have a fluffy ending right? Where’s the fluffy ending I want, and how can that occur if one of the main characters has died?! Well, here’s where the tragic irony of it all comes into play. Canada thinks that America perished in the flames, but he was terribly mistaken. Let’s rewind a bit shall we?_

* * *

        America watched as Canada vanished from his sight, his legs kicking up dust in his wake. A bit of relief set over him. Maybe that was due to the fact that he figured his brother would never come back. He would not find help, but he would be safe. That was what mattered. America wanted him to be safe no matter what the cost. _Don’t worry he’s going to live,_ little Alfred reassured himself. _He’s Canada. If he can survive icy winters and crazy moose, then he can survive a forest fire._ Yet, that still left one matter unsolved. _What’s going to become of me then?_ America pondered to himself. _I’m a nation after all! Does that mean I can die? Either way, that fire sure isn’t going to be pleasant._

        “I don’t want to die,” he cried all of a sudden as he pounded his tiny fists into the ground with a surprising amount of power. “I’m going to live god dammit, and I’m going to see Canada too again. You hear that universe?! I’m going to see my brother again!”

        Apparently the universe agreed because there was a blinding flash of light that caused America to wave a hand in front of his eyes for fear of never being able to see ever again. It was like the sun on a hot summer day except a hundred times worse as even the hand that shaded his eyeballs didn’t seem to be enough. Luckily, as quickly as it started, the light dissipated as an object fell from the sky. At first, America thought it was some kind of white stick perhaps from a birch or something, but this stick had a big yellow star on one end. It was something out of a daydream, an object so queer it couldn’t possibly belong in reality. Yet, there it was in front of him, the stick with the star on top.

        It seemed to him as though he had seen this object before. Perhaps it appeared not in a dream but in another time. Plus, he felt as though it was calling out for him, desperately wanting America to take the stared stick in his hand. In fact, he did just that. He reached for the mysterious object with wild curiosity as he grasped the base of the white stick with one his fingers. All at once, he felt it. A sensation of uncontainable power washed over him. It was as though that creepy item had flooded all its energy into him, and now Alfred felt as though he was going to explode into millions of tiny pieces. _What is this thing?_ he wondered to himself. _It’s certainly nothing I’ve ever seen before. Hum, I wonder what happens if I flick it._

        Flicking it turned out to be a pretty bad idea for with one twist of the wrist, a spark shot out from the wand, hitting a nearby tree. America yelped in shock as he glanced at the place where the spark met the wood, a singe mark clearly evident on the surface of its bark. _Whoops, sorry tree. I did not want to do that. Hopefully no one saw that I’m a tree hurter..._ Anyway Alfred began to realize the true use of this random object, magic. He wasn’t much for fairy tails he had to admit. Aliens sure but magic? This was a world where science reigned supreme! There was no such thing as magic. Anyone who believed in such a thing was a knucklehead. Okay except Canada. America was always willing to make an exception for him.

        “What if you really are magical,” America murmured to himself softly. “Then you could help me get out of here.” It was clear to him now that he didn’t have much time before the flames reached his tiny body, and despite relentless attempts at using his super strength to rip himself out of the ground, the only thing he ended up ripping was a bit of his own clothing. All of his struggles just left him scratched and bruised, and Alfred had to admit he was willing to try anything to get out of that predicament and see his brother again even if it meant magic that shouldn’t actually exist. _It’s worth a shot,_ America told himself firmly as his body began to be hit with coughs from the endless cloud of smoke. _It’s either this or you end up burnt to a crisp._

        “Alright,” America stammered with a shake in his voice as he wondered the outcome of this scenario, “magic wand thingy take me to Canada.” To his surprise, there was an automatic reaction. A burst of light even brighter than before surrounded his body as he shut his eyes in pain. He wasn’t just looking at the sun now. Nope he felt as though he was in it. It didn’t help that he felt warm and tingly all over as though he had just eaten a bunch of caterpillars and had fallen in a pit of lava all at the same time. The outcome left him pretty disoriented as he stumbled onto the forest floor with a whimper.

        Yet, as he lifted his head up, he noticed something peculiar. He wasn’t in the burning section of the woods anymore. No, he was in the clear, a ways away from thickening smoke that has drowned his lungs in agony. _I must be near Canada then!_ America thought giddily as he jumped up and down with a bit of new found energy. _Yes, the magic wand worked! It actually worked, and there is such thing as magic! Wait until I tell Canada he was right; he’s going to be so happy. Plus, now we can both live together again!_ America grinned from ear to ear at that as his legs skipped over countless fallen tree limbs, careful this time around not to get stuck in one of their traps. So careful in fact that he noticed something quite queer about a stray maple tree.

        It was certainly old that was for sure with gnarly branches that he was positive in the dark would be the thing of nightmares. It even had lines in its hard outer covering that made the tree seem as though it had a face on it, the kind of face that screamed “Don’t ever come back here again!” However, that wasn’t the reason why Alfred as so interested in the creepy and horrifying tree from the depths of the underworld. No, he was far more interesting in a piece of cloth hanging from a rock just underneath the tree. As he neared the mysterious item, he realized why it had caught his sight. It was from Canada that was for certain. It was the same kind of material that clothed him as well, and it was dotted with bits of blood as though some sort of struggle had occurred.

        America picked up the piece of fabric and laid it in his hand, examining the red that dotted its surface. _I told the wand to show me where Canada was,_ America thought as dangerous ideas popped into his brain. _This is only a bit of cloth from him, so where can he be? I told the wand to take me to him! He should be here with me! Ugh, why didn’t it work?! Stupid magic._ That’s when he heard it, the same sound he and Matthew had faced only moment earlier. _Bang,_ came its war cry, _bang, bang, bang._ That’s when Alfred’s face turned white as snow as he pressed the soiled fabric close to his little heart, hands trembling as he finally lost all control of his body. _That sound,_ he started to ponder in fright, _what if...what if that’s what hurt him? What if this is all that remains from Canada? Or what if those bangy thingies...what if they killed him, and this is all that is left. I told the wand to take me to Canada....no. It can’t be!_

        “You’re not dead!” America wailed in disbelief as he clung desperately to the bit of fabric in his hands, “you can’t be dead! No, you’re alive! Please just come out, Canada. This isn’t a game of hide and seek! That’s right come out. This isn’t funny anymore...” He trailed off at the end as a second wave of tears flew down his cheeks. He scanned the forest up and down, left and right, but there was no sign of his brother anywhere. America even started up running again, bolting through the gaps in the foliage as he screamed Canada’s name at the top of his lungs. Alas, it was no use, for despite the countless times he called and called, he heard no answer.

        “You really are gone,” America whispered as he finally allowed his body to collapse on the forest bed of pine needles, clutching the little bit of cloth like it was his lifeline. It would take a while before he finally got the courage to stand up, it would take a while before the waterworks stopped flowing from his eyes, and it took an even longer time for him to finally face the truth, the one he cared about the most was gone forever. Now, it was just him, the forest, the source of the banging noises, and loneliness for eternity...or so he thought.

        _You see the curse began right from the moment of their birth as the two of them found themselves in the new world all alone, no other nations in sight. Then it began to grow stronger, taking hold like the flames that engulfed the landscape. When America tried to find Canada with the wand, the true force of the wish was set in stone...well that was until it began to unravel. After all, what’s a curse without a sudden and abrupt cure that’s actually something lame like “true love’s kiss,” and it wakes everyone from a hundred years of creepy sleep? Oh, wait a minute that’s Sleeping Beauty. Well, anyway America was about to find out what happens when a false reality you construct falls apart before your very eyes, and let’s just say this was no fairy tail._


	4. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come and follow me outside,” he spoke rather ominously, so close to him that he could feel the man’s breath hitting his cheek. “I think we both know what you really are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys I’m alive yay! I finally manged to get this chapter up! I’m so sorry my schedule has been a mess, and then I couldn’t get to writing. But yay this chapter is out, and it doesn’t have that much angst! Hopefully I can get another one done pretty quickly, but I’m pretty slow I admit. Anyway this is the first chapter where the Universe II stereotypes appear. Most of them I developed at one in the morning, so if they’re too weird, that’s why. It was kinda hard to do these and stick to the original characters, but hopefully they’re not too too different. Also, I want to note that Universe II characters are not 2ps. They will come later (evil laughter). So for now on to chapter four!

Universe: Take Two  
Date: July 1st  
Place: Uncle Jim’s Nonexistent Grocery Store, NY  
Time: Three Seconds Until Curse Break

  
        “Are you sure you just want the milk?”

        “Yes, that’s all I want. Please would you scan the barcode already!”

        A man was standing by the register. He was a normal man, by any standards, with short brown hair that just barely grew past his ears and with freckles that dotted his checks. He wore a cheap sweatshirt with some saying no one could recognize and a pair of worn-down blue jeans. Behind a pair of hipster glasses, two green eyes glared at the checkout dude in annoyance. These eyes were a bit counter to the average appearance. They were beyond vibrant as though someone had placed two lime slices next to his pupils, and they were the kind of eyes that could fascinate and intimate anyone at the same time. Yet, that’s not what made this guy stand out. No, he was nation. He was a nation that you’d never find sitting at a world meeting, having conferences with Germany, or even hanging out with Sealand and his gang for that matter. In fact, no one knew true his name at all except for his brother, and he had died a long, long time ago. At least, the man thought that he did. You see this guy, besides the strange appearance, was America.

        _You may be wondering how on Earth America ended up with completely different looks. Well, there is one thing I’ll let you know. That sure isn’t hair dye, and those eyes are not covered in colored contacts. So what exactly did happen? Well, that unfortunately is set to be revealed at another time when all of this will make a little more...sense. For now, imagine you are the man standing behind Alfred with not a clue as to his true name, a man who thought that appearance was real._

        Said man stood behind America as he was arguing with the register fellow. He was clothed in a slightly undone, white buttoned up dress shirt, and he had a blue, white, and red scarf wrapped around his neck despite it being July. His hair was bright blond with gorgeous, flowing locks that were tied into a tight ponytail. He had blue irises like the sky above and that kind of glance that could make all the ladies fall in... _Oh who am I kidding you know it’s France._ He was looking ahead at Alfred standing in front of him with clear suspicion as his eyebrows furrowed a bit. The young man didn’t seem so normal to him. There was something about him that was off to the Frenchman as though someone was trying to make Japan wear a skimpy bathing suit and belly dance all at the same time. Whatever it was that was abnormal was bothering the heck out of him.

        “Are you sure you don’t want to buy some new packs of pineapple-flavored mints with that sir?” the register dude who happened to be named Jerry asked surprisingly enthusiastically under America’s wrath. “It’s buy one container get two free. Plus, if you sign up for a membership card, you can get a discount on...”

        “Oh, for the love of...,” Alfred seethed as he looked as though he was going to bang his head on the counter. “I just want the milk okay? I want nothing else. No, memberships!”

        “We’re having a sale on eggs today too, sir,” Jerry grinned as he finally reached down to scan the barcode. “They’re thirty percent off today! Are you sure you don’t just want to pick some up before you go?”

        “Hand me my receipt,” America grunted in a not so passive aggressive tone. The man finally seemed to get it as his wide smile appeared to falter a bit. Never the less, Jerry continued to stare up brightly at the tall American and handed him the receipt as though he were bowing down to him. The brunette hastily plucked the slip of paper out of his hand before the guy could get another word out and sprinted away with the jug of milk in his hand. _Yes, you’ve survived your only social outing for the day,_ Alfred congratulated himself inwardly as he raced to the door. _Now, all you have to do is get back home, and the only one you have to talk to is Tony. Ah, precious, no creepy people in the room silence. How I love silence._ Unfortunately for America, he suddenly felt a light tapping on his shoulder.

        “Hey, Thomas, I didn’t know it was you!” came a sudden shout from behind him. Startled, he turned around on a dime to face a rather blond and fashionable looking man. “I thought I recognized that head of yours! I haven’t seen you, Tom, since that Bar Mitzvah for...your cousin was it? Anyway how have you been, _mon ami_? Meet any girls lately?” America was so surprised by the sudden intrusion of this stranger into his life that he jumped a good foot in the air. He had just meet the man for a few seconds, but his brain was already telling him to run, run and never look back. _Who the heck is this dude, and why does he think I hang out at Bar Mitzvah’s? I’ve never been in a room voluntarily with more than twenty people in it in my life!_ Yet, a chill ran up his spine when the Frenchman all of a sudden grasped his arm and drew him closer.

        “Come and follow me outside,” he spoke rather ominously, so close to him that he could feel the man’s breath hitting his cheek. “I think we both know what you really are.” It was those couple words that stirred America more than anything. _We both know what you are?_ he thought to himself as his heart started to race rapidly in his chest. _Not even “who” but “what”...could this man know that I am a country? No, he couldn’t possible know. I’ve covered_ _it up for years, and no one has figured it out. Heck even Tony doesn’t know who I am! So how did this guy..._ Thousands of thoughts swirled around in his brain. The majority of which were ponders of whether or not he should trust a complete and utter stranger. After all, he had just said a couple of words, and now he was willing to reveal his whole life story? Alfred was certainly not about to let that happen. 

        Unfortunately the mysterious gentleman had already walked out of the store, forcing America to make his decision and fast. And fast he did as though he was a fish being drawn in by a line, slowly dragged closer and closer to the intended target. He couldn’t stop moving. His arms, feet, legs, chest all felt paralyzed by that simple phrase, _We both know what you really are_. It was this desire for knowledge, this innate curiosity, that pulled him out the magical opening doors of the store and into the parking lot.

        The day was sunny beyond belief, forcing Alfred to squint as he weaved his way in between cars, his own long forgotten in the crowd of other vehicles. Yet, surprisingly it didn’t take him long for Alfred to find the ponytailed man in the bright sunlight. He was seated on top of a scarlet Peugeot that looked curiously more like a minivan than an average car. The man also had a certain smile to his lips that made it seem as though he knew this was going to happen. Call it cheesy destiny, but it was as though this meeting was supposed to happen. It was that sensation that freaked the American out more than anything.

        “Who...” Alfred struggled to muster out as he neared the elder with shaking limbs, “are you?” America’s question made the other’s knowing smile widen as he leapt off the hood of the car to meet the brunette.

        “Well, I see you’ve agreed to follow me out here,” the man murmured cryptically as he blatantly appeared to ignore his question altogether. “That must mean I’m right then about you aren’t I? You are a nation.” America froze at those words as if his whole body was turned to ice. He wasn’t breathing shakily anymore, his heart wasn’t beating at a million miles per hour, no he was completely numb as his brain struggled to process all the information coming at him. _He knows,_ Alfred screamed inwardly to himself. _He knows! Does that mean he’s a country too, or is he some government official that’s going to turn me in?! What if I have experiments done on me or worse...What if they kill me?_ It was then that he felt a sudden sense of “I think I’m going to faint” as all the color rushed from his face altogether. Luckily, the elder picked up on his reaction immediately like an all-knowing grandmother.

        “I’m the nation of France or Francis if you’d like to call me by my human name,” the blond spoke eloquently as he stuck a hand out for the American to shake. Alfred stared down at it for a bit before he returned the gesture, his thoughts still too jumbled and hectic to pay attention to his surrounds. _Ah, okay so he’s not some government official who’s after me er at least openly. That’s a good sign. Plus, this man is a another nation, so there are more of us out there! I knew I wasn’t the only one!!! I’m not alone! You hear that world? I’m not alone! And this guy is France. He can’t be all that bad right? He has Paris, the city of love and all that. That city where 2,639 people had their heads chopped up by guillotine during the Revolution, and 250,000 died gruesomely in Vendée...Okay maybe I should run. Maybe I should run far, far away._ America’s hand slipped out of France’s grip relatively quickly as he prepared to do just that, his knees shaking slightly.

        “And you are?” France asked patiently as he noticed the growing shyness and anxiety of the other. It was that question that halted Alfred’s plans for escape as he chose to let it dwell in his mind. _Who am I exactly? I’m America of course! But should I let him know that hmm...Well, it’s either I give away all my secrets to this complete stranger and never get any privacy again, or I could just keep living the life I’m currently living and make up stuff. Plus, I should wait to trust this guy shouldn’t I? Well, that’s not that much of a dilemma._

        “I’m just a little micro-nation called Onjklrsta,” America lied with a tremor in his voice as he stared straight down at the ground, “but you can call me Alfred if you’d like. That’s Alfred F. Jones. Anyway I’m new and all that, so I’m going to just go. I have lots to do with the newness and all that cause you know I’m new and all. Plus, this milk is really going to spoil, so I better get going before it does that...um so yeah bye.”

        America took one more glance at France before his legs decided to bolt in the direction of safety, yet that one glance made all the difference. It was through this that he watched as France’s smile fell softly as though he was too depressed to frown. The glimmer of mystery and joy that was once in his eyes also faded as though his surprising find of the nation was no longer significant. It was as though he was searching desperately for something more, for something precious to his heart, and Alfred’s words broke that sliver of hope that he once had. What that something was that he was looking for America had no clue, but it was enough to make him hesitate as the muscles in his legs relaxed gently. The thought of guillotines and strife faded away as he watched the other grow more and more solemn by the second.

        “A new micro-nation,” France mused quietly to himself as he let out a not so concealed sigh. “I guess I thought you were someone else. _Au revoir_ then. We wouldn’t want that milk to spoil now would we?” With that, he turned around as his hand grasped the handle of his vehicle.

        “Out of curiosity, who was that someone you were looking for?” America asked before he knew what hit him. It was as if he already knew the answer. After all, who else would they be looking for but...him. _No, that can’t be possible,_ Alfred scolded himself. _They don’t know you exist, and well, you didn’t know they existed. Plus, why would they want an antisocial wreck like you anyway who took an hour just to get the courage to go to the grocery store?_ While America was thinking said thoughts, France turned around on a dime as he took a moment to stare into the curiosity that had encompassed the brunette before gently shaking his head.

        “It doesn’t matter they probably aren’t around anymore,” he muttered gravely with yet another sigh. “What’s in the past is in the past anyway, and it’s time for the future. I was just hoping you’d cheer up Canada. It’s his birthday after all; well, at least, it’s his “Step Towards Getting Away from That Nasty Black Sheep of Europe” day as I like to call it. And he always seems to get lonely around this time of year, especially with his brother’s passing er disappearance. I was hoping you were him, but alas I’m incorrect again.” At the name Canada, Alfred froze in place. _No, Canada he...he died didn’t he. I saw the evidence! This cannot be real...Maybe this whole thing is a dream. Ha, I’m dreaming. Of course, that’s it!_ He continued to almost have an all out heart attack from pure shock as France lost himself in his own sadness.

        “You know what, _mon ami_ , why don’t you come along with me to the party,” the Frenchman spoke abruptly as he drew himself out of his dismal musing. “We ought to welcome you into the family anyway. Sorry I didn’t think about that before. How rude of me for not asking earlier! Do you want to join me on my trip?” America only had to think about that for a split second as he felt the hope and joy and excitement and relief pent up inside of him overflow to the brim. _He’s giving me a chance to see my long lost brother who I thought was dead all of these years. He’s giving me a chance to find the person I have spent my entire life searching for all over the world in a broken fit of hope. He’s giving me the chance to just see his face and hear his voice again. Of course, I’m in!_

        “Yes, I’ll join you,” was Alfred’s reply as he pictured Canada in his head, altering the image through his imagination as he wondered what his twin looked like all grown up.

        “Alright get on in then, my little angel,” France said with a small grin returning to his lips, “and here I’ll grab that milk and throw it in the cooler.”

        America’s fantasies of meeting his apparently not so dead brother after hundreds of years were soon interrupted as the nation in front of him lifted the rear door with his foot. To his surprise, a soccer ball came flying out from out of no where, almost hitting him in the face as he dogged the projectile. Hundreds more hockey pucks spilled out which were luckily less dangerous than the spinning torpedo of death, and the Frenchman hastily grabbed whatever he could. The strangest thing about the back of the car though was not the random sports items and occasional wooden hockey stick but the behemoth of a cooler that stood like a trophy in all its glory. As Alfred marveled at how France managed to fit the beast in such a small space, the nation somehow packed every wayward item back into the vehicle. With one slight gesture of his hand, America found himself giving away his milk to be placed in the cooler with what turned out to be hoards of brightly colored Gatorade. And to think Alfred could have sworn he saw average grocery bags in the man’s hands only moments before.

        “So...um you’re quite the avid athlete I see,” America spoke as his tongue willed him to at least address the elephant in the room. “That’s a lot of Gatorade you got there too. Do you really love it that much?”

        “Oh, no sports and I don’t mix,” France answered simply as he befuddled the American even further, “and that concoction! I’d rather drink champagne then those chemicals or whatever they put in those things. They’re absolutely ghastly!” He seemed so offended at Alfred’s words that the younger feared he wouldn’t be able to tag along. Luckily, before America could figure out the mystery of the giant cooler, the elder beaconed him to enter the shotgun seat besides him. “Now hop on in,” the nation ordered emphatically as he settled down behind the wheel.

        _The term shotgun comes from the American Old West of the 1880s when—in stagecoaches—the passenger’s job was, not to scream at the driver for not taking a left when they should have, but rather to shoot at random thieves that came their way. The seat itself therefore became referred to as “shotgun” through the rise of the media and television. To this day, youths still scream at a each other to be the last one alive in the spot after everyone else has been killed off through bloodthirsty acts of violence. Oh, wait that’s the “Hunger Games” you say? Never mind then. What’s really important to remember is that, in normal circumstances, it is never okay to enter a stranger’s car. They could be trying to kidnap you or who knows what else. Young children are often taught not to trust vans, such as France’s, especially if the driver refers to said child sweetly such as with the term “little angel.” Unfortunately for Alfred, this man was indeed a hazard, a terrible danger to anyone around him._

_That is he was a hazard and terrible danger in a completely and utterly different way altogether._

        “Why are you blasting classical music this loudly!” Alfred screamed over the roar of the radio, “I can barely hear myself think let alone speak.”

        “What are saying, my dear?” the Frenchman shouted back through the noise. “Oh, hang on that man cut me off. What are you doing? How dare you pass me on the right you bastard. (Wait sorry, Alfred, for my language!) You didn’t even signal you moron, and quit weaving through lanes. What are you, a drunkard? Learn how to drive before you run someone over. Yeah that’s right you better get off at the next exit, you coward.” The nation was currently slamming a fist into the horn as fast as possible as the poor car in front of them sped away out of fright. It sure didn’t help that the vehicle’s noise pollution was now a hundred times worse through France’s pounding, and all America could do was plug his ears with his fingers in the hope that he wasn’t deaf for life. To make matters worse, the car itself was going at a speed so painfully slow that Alfred was afraid they were going to get pulled over at any second, and the Frenchman kept screaming at nearly every car they passed by.

        “Look we’ve got another kid texting again,” he screamed as he threw up his arms in a fit of anger. “I hope you crash-land face first into a telephone pole one day you, _branleur_ (wanker)! Anyway you were speaking to me, Onjk...um Alfred?”

        “Could you please turn the radio down!” America screeched at the top of his lungs. “It’s giving me a headache.” He rubbed his temples to prove his point, trying to gently massage the onslaught of pain he was experiencing out of his scalp.

        “Oh, yeah sure thing, dearie,” France chuckled as he thankfully decreased the excruciating volume. “I’m sorry I just get a little carried away when it comes to the magnificent artist that is Debussy. He’s so much better than that music you teenagers listen to now a-days with all of those naughty words in it. All people sing about is reproduction and drugs and not much else. The nerve of those music companies!”

        “You do know that Debussy had sex with someone else’s wife right?”

        “Is nothing safe in this world!”

        The Frenchman hastily turned off the radio as quickly as possible, much to America’s relief. At last, he could make out the roar of the engine as the older nation sped at snail’s speed along the roadway and the honks of other drivers that not so patiently urged the country to get a move on. Still, the relative silence compared to the last couples hours was a treat that the younger was rather grateful for, and he used it to daydream about who else but Canada. _Once I see him, I can reveal who I really am, and oh, what if he doesn’t recognize me?! What if I don’t recognize him? I don’t know how I’d handle that. I guess the question I should be asking is how has he been able to survive France this long? I bet my poor bro is so babied that he must be banned from the “sinful” internet forever. Don’t worry Canada; I’ll rescue you! The hero is coming after all._

        America was so happy at the thought that he almost cried in the van despite the humongous, wide grin he currently bore. Tears of joy welled up in his eyes but not enough to fall out. No, he’d wait to cry until he saw Canada’s face once more when there would be no doubt in his mind that he was really there and...alive! Then he’d reveal who he really was, let out his mass of pent up emotions, and they could both cry together in each other’s arms. America let out a longing sigh at that, and unbeknownst to him, France was watching the younger’s giddy face. He glanced over at him with a mysterious smirk almost as if he had already sorted out the pieces of the puzzle that was his passenger.

* * *

 

        It wasn’t long before America’s eyes grew heavy with blissful sleep as the miles ticked by across various landscapes, and the Frenchman couldn’t help but chuckle as soft snores filtered their way out of the other’s mouth. The younger was so fast asleep, in fact, that he missed the whole argument France got into with the border security about the other’s missing passport. It was a rough battle with much shouting from both parties, but Francis, being a nation, eventually got his way. Well, it also might of had something to do with him critiquing every single car that passed by, but he didn’t know that. Anyway, eventually they made it across, and it soon became apparent to France after several more miles that they were nearing their destination. That meant that pretty soon he’d have to wake the other up. He exhaled rather loudly in disappointment at that; Alfred’s sleeping form just looked too peaceful to disturb.

        “No!” came a sudden shout from besides him, almost causing the Frenchman to veer off the road.

        He glanced at the other in shock, quickly realizing that the serenity that had once encompassed Alfred was now completely gone. The younger was shaking in his seat, doused in fear, as though something was after him. Whimpers sifted out from his lips. They were mournful whimpers, filled with an unbearable pain, as though someone was trying to pull his heart out of his chest. More screams of “No!” sifted out before the other started sobbing furiously. The sight made France frown in worry. Whatever he was dreaming about had to have been traumatic, and his actions caused shivers to run all up and down his body like a tidal wave of dread that crashed upon him. The elder had only known the “micro-nation” for a few hours at most, but already there was an instinctual need burning inside of him to ease the other’s pain. It didn’t help that Alfred’s fits reminded him of Canada in a way, causing him to hesitate in a bit of wonder, but he shook off that notion in favor of patting the other awake.

        “No, no no!” the young shrieked as he was drawn abruptly back into reality. His eyes wandered aimlessly around the car in a bit of post shock as he struggled to regain his bearings. Slowly, he caught sight of the hand that was on his shoulder, gently massaging him with great care.

        “It’s okay, _mon cher_ ,” France whispered calmly as Alfred’s green eyes landed on the elder’s face. “You just had a nightmare that’s all, just a nightmare.” America’s harsh breathing relaxed at those words as he pulled himself together, hastily wiping the tears out of his eyes. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, especially since he had an all out screaming attack in front of the other nation, but still, he enjoyed the massage the other was giving him. After living so many years alone and even with Tony, he never really had the chance to experience much human er nation contact, and he greedily relished every moment of it.

        “I’m sorry about that,” the American murmured as he sniffled a bit in his seat. “I hope I wasn’t bothering you too badly.” Secretly he also hoped beyond hope that France hadn’t heard anything. _Oh, no what if I screamed Canada’s name in front of him?! What if he knows who I am? I’m not ready for that yet!_ Fortunately for Alfred, France hadn’t heard anything besides those strangled shouts, unaware of what the dream was truly about...a memory. It was about that terrible day America longed to forget but that clung to his dreams like a nasty scar, the day he lost everything.

        “No, no need to apologize, my dear,” France murmured as one hand steered the vehicle and the other now rubbed circles into Alfred’s back, “it happens to the best of us. Unfortunately for us nations...and micro-nations, fear seems to never want to leave. Somethings are just there to haunt us for life I’m afraid.” The other hummed in agreement as a wave of shivers flickered their way down him like sparks of electricity. “Oh, and I was going to wake you up pretty soon anyway,” Francis continued as he pointed out the window. “We’re almost at his house.” At those words, America practically bolted up in his seat, switching emotions in a matter of seconds. France chuckled a bit at the other’s excitement as he allowed his other hand to ease its way back towards the wheel.

        Alfred couldn’t help but grin widely like a toddler being offered cake as they inched closer and closer to their destination. It was as though every mile away from his brother caused him physical pain, and the more they drove, the more that was stripped away. Had he had Nantucket, the bit of hair would have been wagging like a golden retriever as it stuck its head out the window. _I’m going to see Canada again!_ he shouted internally. _I can’t believe it. I’m actually going to see him again! Will he recognize me? What does he think happened to me? Oh, what if he’s taller than me? That can’t happen! What if he ended up just like France? That would be a real nightmare. Wait does he still like maple syrup?_ The questions would have been endless, but they pulled into the driveway eventually, causing the other’s anticipation to only grow and grow.

        “Wow, you’re really excited to see the other nations aren’t you?” France laughed as America practically hoped out of the car like a bunny on steroids. Something about his question made the other pause as the gears turned rapidly in his brain. _Wait other nations...Oh right France said this was a party didn’t he? This means that there are thousands of other people, strangers, inside that house right now...Um, yeah maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all. Let’s come back another day when we’re the only ones here._ “Come along don’t be shy,” Francis spoke as he noticed the transformation that swept over the American. “We don’t bite...most of us anyway.”

        “That’s not very reassuring.”

        Unfortunately er fortunately for Alfred, France grabbed him by the shoulder before he so much as got a chance to flee or even examine their surroundings, socially forcing him to enter the building. The American almost had an all out panic attack when the nation rung the bell, the Frenchman oblivious to the level of anxiety that was currently causing the other to hyperventilate. He tried to struggle he really did but a. the other was holding him firmly in place and b. something inside of him relented. Perhaps it was the mere thought of seeing his twin again that kept him rooted to that spot, either that or the promise of a non-gas station bathroom. The bell chimed for a mer second before the oaken door swung open with a bang, almost causing the younger nation to faint on the spot.

        “Hey, France there you are!” came a sudden and rather deep and cheerful shout from a tall man dressed in blazing yellow Hawaiian shirt with neon green palm trees. He had hair the color of the sun that was swept backwards and arched eyebrows that looked out of place with his joyful demeanor. His pale blue eyes lit up at the sight of the other as if radiating happiness. “We were worried that you’d never show up!” the man’s booming voice continued as he beckoned the other inside with a wide grin. “What took you so long, dude? Come inside, come inside, and let’s get this party started!”

        It took all of America’s willpower not to turn back and run towards the van at the sight of all that enthusiasm. He did, however, decide to hide behind France despite the fact that the other nation was clearly shorter. Still, he made a great human shield from the chaos that was currently occurring around him. You see there were countries everywhere. Some were laughing with each other, some were arguing, and some were all but trying to kill each other, screams of wrath escaping their mouths. The brunette just stared in awe, wondering how on Earth so many of them existed, _his kind_. It was a miracle in his mind. After all, only just that morning he woke up thinking he was alone in the world and the view in front of him made his mouth open in wonder. Francis even had to nudge the shell-shocked nation just to get him to head inside the wooden building, a quiet smile etched on his lips.

        “I see you’ve brought a friend today ha, France?!” the Hawaiian shirt guy boomed as he noticed the American quivering behind the other. “Who is this fella?” Alfred tried to respond he really did, but the words never found their way up to his tongue. Instead, all that came out of his mouth were nonsensical squeaks that made him cower in embarrassment. _Another stranger is talking to me!_ his head screamed inwardly. _What do I do? How am I supposed to respond? Oh, no it’s been thirty seconds already. This is going to become awkward soon. Please, oh please don’t let this become awkward._

        “This is the micro-nation Onjk...Onjklirsta...Onj,” France tried as he came to the other’s rescue. “I mean this is Alfred. He goes by Alfred. I swear he was talking to me before; he’s just new to life that’s all and a little shy I suppose.” The larger nation chuckled knowingly as he held out his hand for the American to shake. Alfred took it gingerly, startled immediately by the other’s firm grip. It took all the energy he had to suppress his super strength as Hawaiian shirt guy all but shook his arm out of his socket. _Who is this country anyway?_ America took the time to wonder. _Is he Cuba? No, that can’t be right..._

        “Nice to meet you, young man, whatever your name is,” the stranger laughed as he cut off the other’s trail of thoughts. “I’m the nation of Germany, but let’s not be that formal! Just call me Ludwig. After all, you’re family now. So welcome, chillax, and grab some beer; it’s good for your health!”

_I know what you’re thinking “That’s a robot isn’t it? Yep, that’s a robot disguised as Germany!” No, the very country the two nations stood before was in fact German, and his name indeed was Germany. You see America’s absence was just enough to loosen the stress that, in the other universe, had almost consumed the other alive, and so Germany II devoted himself to living a free and easy lifestyle. And by that I mean all he did was eat tons of sausage, get drunk, and take too long to get through checkout lines._

        “Yay, a new member of our _famiglia_!” came a sudden shout from out of no where as a shorter nation jumped in front of Germany. “I’m Northern Italy, home of pizza. Hey, try some. It’s very good and has lots of cheese on it and Pepperoni and...”

        “Hey, Italy, whatever you’re cooking just caught on fire!”

        “Ah, _accidenti_!” Italy cried abruptly as he ran towards the smell of smoke. “My pizza, my beautiful pizza!”

        _Italy II remained relatively the same. Why he favored pizza over pasta no one knew. Several studies have been conducted to try to find an answer, but none of them have been very conclusive. Romano II also had a peculiar trait, a mustache which he had decided to grow out despite his clear distaste for the thing’s very existence. Scientists wonder if the two brothers’ transformations are linked, and testing is still underway. However, the whole switch towards their creation of cheese-covered, circular objects and twirly facial hair remains an enigma._

        America blinked a few times in confusion as he watched as Italy scurried away with the pizza box still balanced in one hand. He appeared to be screaming at another darker, brown-haired nation with one stray hair curl. The second man shouted back just as loudly as he twirled his twisted mustache in worry. Pretty soon the other broke down crying in Italy’s arms as the fire alarm decided to go off, much to everyone’s annoyance. France just sighed as if in defeat before pulling Alfred away from the smoking kitchen towards the fire-free living room. Fortunately for the American, it was quieter there with only a few buzzes of conversation. He took in a breath of relief as he inched closer to the Frenchman, still too anxious about anyone noticing his existence.

        “Want to buy porcelain teapots half price, aru” came the sudden cry of a dark ponytailed gentlemen as a cart full of pottery and knickknacks appeared from thin air “or have some colorful chopsticks for your dumplings?”

        _This man, Alfred soon found out, was China. Without America’s business deals, China felt the need to focus less on building China towns on random islands and more on commerce with every single nation he came across. Needless to say, it was quite rare for a nation to enter his personal space and come back empty handed. Sure enough, the moment the country left, the America found himself with a fresh pair of eating utensils in his fingers._

        “How exactly...did that happen?” America asked in a fit of confusion as he stored the chopsticks in a spare pocket. “I don’t even remember giving him money! It was all a blur. He just moved so fast.”

        “No one knows,” France murmured as he stared at his brand-new teapot decorated with miniature blue rabbits, “it’s a mystery.” Alfred could only nod in acknowledgement as yet another nation approached them. This one thankfully appeared to be normal with short black hair, soft brown eyes, and thin eyebrows that altogether gave him a rather pleasant appearance. To America, he resembled the type of person you could ask to watch your house, and it would be in a better condition on your return than when you had left it. The sight of the other, to him, was a blessing compared to the madness of the other nations around him. _Finally, someone who’s normal,_ Alfred noted in his mind. _What a relief._

        “I hear you’re the new micro-nation,” the stranger spoke in a gentle manner as he bowed before the other. “Welcome to our family. You may call me Japan. I’m sorry if the others airu bothering you; things tend to get out of hand at these parties.” America relaxed at Japan’s greeting, thrilled to have another nation more like himself in nature and understanding of the current situation he was in.

        “I’m A...Onjklrsta,” he answered with a hand stretched out respectfully. “Most people just call me Alfred though. It’s easier to pronounce I suppose.”

        “Ah, no the light!” came a scream from Japan as he flailed his arms in a panic when someone decided to open up the curtains. “It’s going to get me. I must escape!” With that, he sprinted towards a corner of the room, and he sat down in a tiny ball, shaking in fear as he stared wide-eyed at the window. It was as if he thought the sun itself was going to kill him like a laser beam, incinerating his body until there was nothing left but dust. _Great just when I thought he was normal that happened,_ America groaned inwardly. _I guess it was too good to be true._

        _Without America, Japan had a harder time understanding western culture, particularly European monsters from horror films. So he bought a bunch of books, games, and magazines to try to educate himself, and things didn’t exactly go so well. He was prone to make...mistakes, grave mistakes. For instance, one day, after he realized he always asked to enter houses and pondered his paler skin, he came to a startling conclusion. He, Japan, was, in fact, a vampire. Since that day, he avoided mirrors (in earlier times when they were silver-backed), garlic, and any speck of sunlight like it was the plague. Now, he could have fixed this mistake if he talked to China (There’s a living corpse like a vampire in ancient folklore.), but alas, Japan lost faith in China when he sold him fermented fish labeled as “ketchup.” Well, there was that and the whole attacking the other nation with a katana thing; swords aren’t the best tools for fixing relationships._

_And so with Japan in peril and America nowhere to be seen, someone had to step up and save him. Someone had to help the weak, support the helpless, and come to the rescue when other nations needed a second hand. Some had to be—dare I say it—the hero._

        “I’ll save you, Japan,” Denmark shouted bravely as he rushed over to the window faster than a jet plane and closed the curtains, “I’m the hero after all! No one gets killed on my watch.” The terrified nation thanked Denmark profusely as America stared at the spectacle in awe, glancing at France to see if he felt the same way. Surprisingly, the other nation was as calm as can be as though nothing had happened at all. _I guess that’s his definition of a typical nation,_ the brunette thought to himself. _I figured I was weird cause I was living with an alien, an alien!_ It was then that he took the time to wonder about said alien. _He probably thinks I missing. I should have come back with the milk ages ago. Maybe I should call him..._

        “Hey, everyone it’s Russia!” came an enthusiastic shout from the crowd.

        “Yes, Russia!” the previously anxious Japan cried with glee as he rushed towards the doorway. Before America could ask France what the ruckus was about, the Frenchman had up and vanished in a matter of seconds. Confused, the younger nation followed the now hoards of nations that had gathered in the front of the house, waving their raised hands in the air like little kindergarteners. Baffled, Alfred pushed his way towards the front of the crowd as he struggled to figure out what in the world was going on. He soon caught sight of this Russia, towering above the others.

        The nation had pale blond hair, amethyst eyes, and a wide smile that grinned at the others with so much intensity it made America wonder wether or not he was related to Santa Claus. Around his neck was a bright yellow scarf that resembled a sunflower in full bloom, and he wore a long jacket so thick it made Alfred shudder. _What’s with these people and wearing warm clothing when it’s clearly like 82 degrees outside (That’s around 28 Celsius.)! What are they, nuts?_

        “Kopobka for everyone!” Russia shouted happily as he threw pieces of candy in the air at the cheerful nations, each desperately reaching out to grab a handful. Choruses of “Thank yous!” echoed from the mob as each country took the time to hug the ginormous nation.

        _With America’s absence, tensions among countries decreased during the mid-1900s, and because of this relaxation, Russia became the fun-loving uncle of the world who randomly chucks candy at people. Russia II had a rather pleasant demeanor and was always willing to make friends with anyone (not for becoming one with Russia reasons). Once he made friends with a lonely man he found in a creepy alleyway, and the next day everything in his house was stolen. Posters were put up in the hope that someone knew the mysterious perpetrator, but Russia II still has no idea who could have possibly entered his house. The case remains open to this day._

_Surprisingly, the only nations that didn’t change in Universe II were Switzerland and Liechtenstein. Studies show they seem to be permanently the same in every dimension as though a forcefield is around them. How this is possible scientists can’t say._

        “Hey, Russia, don’t forget about little me over here!” came a familiar chuckle from across the room. The voice was so eerily different and yet recognizable that it sent chills across America’s spine. His breath hitched in his throat as though he had forgotten how to breathe properly; his eyes opened wide in their sockets. _No, it can’t be!_ America practically screamed in his mind. _France was actually right?! That means he is...alive! He’s alive..._ Slowly but surely Alfred turned around to face the crowd of nations that began to part like the sea around one country that approached nearer and nearer. They parted around one country he knew all too well, one country he had known since the moment of his birth, one country he cherished with all his heart. 

        “Canada,” America whispered softly...


	5. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> America blinked his eyes again and again as he took in the sight before him, shaking his head vigorously. He even pinched himself on the arm—which hurt quite a bit—just to make sure it wasn’t a dream. Yet, no matter what he did, his brother stood there before him, in the flesh, and undoubtedly, unquestionably alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On to chapter five! I’m sorry if that last chapter wasn’t as good. It was a bunch of me developing new personalities that kinda worked out. This chapter, on the other hand, is where the full plot is about to kick into motion. There is quite a bit of foreshadowing! Thus, if you don’t understand some of what Alfred says, it will be explained (hopefully next chapter). I tried to create a bit of mystery too. Also, I’m sorry if some of the logic is a bit whishy in this chapter. Some of the concepts are a bit strange for me to descibe. Also, hopefully I can get the next chapter up soon, and until next time, enjoy!

        America blinked his eyes again and again as he took in the sight before him, shaking his head vigorously. He even pinched himself on the arm—which hurt quite a bit—just to make sure it wasn’t a dream. Yet, no matter what he did, his brother stood there before him, in the flesh, and undoubtedly, unquestionably alive. He looked exactly the same too, which scared America more than anything, as though his body had never aged at all. He still had the same wavy blond hair, the same wayward, twisted curl that hung from his scalp, the same amethyst-colored eyes, and the same smile that magically allowed for his surroundings to fade out of existence. It was as though all the pain and suffering he had ever known was washed down the drain in one giant whoosh of water, and there was just his own self and that grin.

        The only thing that had changed really was the pair of glasses that was now perched on Canada’s nose not unlike the pair America used to wear, and of course, he was quite a bit taller. Luckily, the two were still around the same height, much to Alfred’s relief. _Okay, now’s your chance, America,_ he told himself as he watched his brother approach Russia. _Go say hi, and introduce yourself! He’s your brother. It’s not like he’s going to attack you or anything!_ Alfred eyed him like a starstruck teenager as his twin greeted Russia with one giant hug as the towering nation chuckled and handed him loads of “extra birthday candy.” He knew he should have just gone for it and hugged him and cried and told him who he really was, but something within him made him hesitate. It was like an internal itch that he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tried.

        It was fear that halted him, a fear of his own creation. _What if he doesn’t forgive me for The War of 1812?_ America thought bitterly to himself. _What if he’s still mad about that? Or what if he doesn’t want to see me altogether? I mean I have been away all these years, and suddenly I turn up in his life?! That’s going to shake him up for sure. Or what if I put him in danger? No, there’s no way they’d find me now. I made sure of that. Ugh, maybe going to this party wasn’t such a good idea after all._ America shrunk back into his body like a turtle back into its shell as he turned away from the pleasant scene: the hoards of nations laughing playfully as they caught candy in midair, Russia patting the Canadian on the back softly, and his brother smiling from ear to ear, laughing with a sound he would have paid everything just to hear. He traveled back into the sea of nations like a fish swimming upstream. He traveled back towards the only thing that had ever made him comfortable, solitude.

        “Hey, is it true that you’re the new micro-nation?” came a voice he knew all too well. America turned around on a dime as he watched in awe as Canada himself approached, each step making his blood chill bit by bit. It wasn’t a bad feeling though, more like one of utter shock as his twin came nearer and nearer. It was as though he was filled with complete and blissful happiness and yet anxiety all at the same time, and it had no where to go but inside of him. It didn’t help that now the other nations too were focused on this “new micro-nation.” _Great so much for my secret identity,_ Alfred grumbled to himself, _and I was just starting to like this one._

        “Oh, me?” America mumbled through the nerves as he stared more at the ground than at Canada. “Yeah...um...that would be me? I mean yes, of course, that’s me cause I’m new, and I’m a micro-nation and all that stuff. Um, what I meant to say was...hello?” Alfred cringed at his own words as a clearly apparent blush spread across his face. He was about to cover it up with his hands out of sheer embarrassment when Canada let out a fit of laughter.

        “You’ve never met another nation before have you?” the Canadian asked at last as he beamed at the shaking American with so much enthusiasm it was as though he was on a caffeine high.

        “Well, no not exactly,” Alfred shrugged as he struggled to deal with the spotlight focused on him.

        “Ah, that’s great then!” His brother shouted enthusiastically as he abruptly snagged America’s hand and began to shake it vigorously. “I can introduce you to everyone! Oh, I’m Canada by the way, you know the one who’s having the birthday. Well, technically it isn’t my real birthday more like the day I gained more political independence, but no one knows my real birthday, so we kinda picked this date. I like it, but I think my real birthday is in the winter. There’s something in me that’s just spiritually connected to the snow, you know? Or maybe it’s more like end of winter early spring when maple season starts. Yeah, that’s probably the true date, eh? Anyway who are you, new stranger?”

        To say that America was startled would have been an understatement. _Who are these people, and what have they done with my twin brother?_ he growled inwardly to himself. _I bet it was France who did this to him! He used to be so quiet and shy, and now look at him! He can’t stop talking. I know I hate people myself, but this is just unnatural! He’s not himself, but...at least he’s happy. France said he always got misty around his birthday, but he seems fine. Perhaps, he’s finally moved on from me..._ It was at that point that Alfred realized Canada’s mouth had stopped moving, and there was set of amethyst eyes fixed on him.

        “Oh, I’m the micro-nation Onjklrsta,” America muttered hastily, too insecure still to look at the other. “I was ah just founded recently. Yeah, that’s it.”

        “Onjklrsta!” came a random shout from the peanut gallery that sounded suspiciously like a certain Frenchman. “That’s how you pronounce it! I remember now.”

        “Onjklrsta,” Canada murmured thoughtfully as he held out his hand for the American to shake. “It’s nice to meet you new micro-nation. We’re more than happy to add you to our family. I just hope you can survive our craziness.” He said that last bit with a small chuckle, and America returned the handshake with what felt like his first real smile of that day. _You know, for all the changes that have occurred, he still understands me more than anyone else. Maybe I can last through this party._ “So where are you from, new micro-nation?” Canada continued with intense curiosity. “I didn’t think there was any free land left.” _Or maybe I can’t do this,_ America groaned in his brain. That one question sent him into a small panic. After all, it hadn’t occurred to him that he’d make it _this far_ with a pathetic lie. _Okay now’s your chance,_ he urged himself fervently. _Tell, him who you really are, America!_

        “Oh, my land yeah I’m just a small place in the Appalachian mountains,” Alfred continued to lie between his teeth despite the inner conflict currently waging within his mind. “That’s probably why you’ve never heard of me. I’m pretty difficult to find unless you’re a lost hiker or something. I actually got founded by one. Yeah, um one got lost and decided to found his own country, and now I exist. Yay, for existing!” America visibly cringed at that last bit as he felt like dying was a pretty reasonable option at that point. It didn’t help that Canada, upon hearing his explanation, resumed his laughter.

        “A hiker wanted to found his own nation,” his twin giggled, much to the other’s chagrin. “That’s a good one. Well, hey at least you’re better than Sealand. He doesn’t even have any land!”

        “Hey, I heard that,” the nation that was probably this Sealand grumbled.

        “Well, it’s great to have you, Onjklr...Onjlr...”

        “It’s Alfred. Please just called me Alfred.”

        “Well, it’s great to have you, Alfred,” Canada chuckled warmly. “It’s not everyday a new micro-nation is born, so you’ve just made my life a whole lot more interesting. Screaming at other people at world meetings does tend to get boring after a while. Oo and I can show you around the house, of course, and I can introduce you to everyone and the whole nation business. Oh, you probably have loads of questions! I’m also always here if you need anything answered er except relationship advice. That’s a mystery that can only be solved through...wait a minute I’m rambling again aren’t I? Whoops, sorry I tend to do that. Anyway, let’s go meet the other nations. Onwards!”

        Before America knew what hit him, he felt himself being dragged back into the crowd. Sure the dragging was kind of against his will, but something within America enjoyed the sharp tugging of his hand that pulled him along. He felt that warmth too when everyone grinned at Canada as the birthday boy passed by, waving at a nation every once in a while. It was as if his twin absorbed the positive energy all around him and spread it to Alfred like some sort of sponge. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before the dragging halted as abruptly as it had begun as the two approached a familiar face.

        “This, Alfred, is France,” Canada spoke immediately as soon as they stopped by the ponytailed Frenchman, who waved at America knowingly. “He is my um was my big brother for a bit you could say, and then England took over. Where is England anyway? I haven’t seen him in quite some time...”

        “Oh, I’m sure he’s fine,” France quickly cut in. “At least, I hope he is anyway. Hey, if his body can survive the stuff he calls food, I’m sure he can survive anything. Also, Alfred and I already met. I was the one who found him and drove him over here.” It was now Canada’s turn to grow embarrassed as he rubbed his neck gingerly.

        “You two have already met before,” he muttered hastily. “Sorry for introducing you to each other then. My bad!” his eyes darted back between America and France as he apologized, his cheeks tinted with crimson. “How...um...how did you two meet exactly?” Alfred glanced at the Frenchman, hoping he would answer the question. After all, everyone was still watching them like hawks, and he really wasn’t up for talking at that point. However, France didn’t seem to understand America’s pleading eyes as he waved on the other warmly.

        “I was buying milk,” was America’s shaky reply once he realized he was hesitating for far too long. “I was baking, I needed more milk, I went to the store, and then I ah met France. Now, I’m here.” He ended that explanation so uncomfortably that silence soon followed as the other countries just blinked at him. He even could have sworn he heard crickets from somewhere, but maybe that was just one of the many critter’s China was currently selling. Canada could speak to people, Canada could do the talking, but he...he could only seem to say things that came out as awkward gibberish. _Why can’t you be just like him,_ America scolded himself. _Everything that comes out of your mouth is just the definition of wrong._ Luckily, before he could finish his inner critiquing, Canada piped up.

        “So who else have you met, Alfred?” his brother questioned as he unknowingly came to his twin’s rescue.

        “I um...have seen Germany, China, France of course, Japan, Italy, and you...”

        “Great here’s some more people then,” Canada cut in as they rushed over, at what seemed like the speed of light, to a new set of countries lounging in the kitchen. “Meet Hungary and Prussia! Hungary, Alfred and Alfred, Hungary. Prussia, Alfred and Alfred, Prussia.” America gazed up at the two strangers with curiosity. There was a light brown-haired women he assumed was Hungary fiddling with a frying pan on the stove. She had eyes the color of sage that were both kind looking and yet severe all at the same time. A black karate belt was tied around the waist of her green dress like some sort of trophy that she wore proudly as she went about her work. To the right of her, was this Prussia who had hair the color of snow that looked as though it had been drenched in water. Ruby eyes stared back at Alfred under arched eyebrows, yet there was a pleasant atmosphere about him. Maybe it had something do with the silly, blue swim trunks he chose to wear instead of shorts.

        “Hello, Alfred, it’s nice to meet you,” Prussia spoke up first as he greeted the other. “I’m the awesome Prussia, as you heard. I run the amazing swim team which you can probably tell by my hairdo. I’ve never been beaten in a race, not now and not ever. Not even Hungary over here has ever gotten the best of me. Isn’t that right, Hungary? I am unstoppable!” At the sound of her name, this Hungary visibly glared at the other nation as her grip on the frying pan tightened.

        “Do you want me to repeat the number of ways I know how to kill you?” she asked through gritted teeth, causing Prussia and America both to shake with fear.

        “Oh, no it’s alright,” the Prussian replied hastily. “Please don’t hit me with that thing. Especially don’t touch the face, my lovely face!”

_Prussia and Hungary didn’t change significantly during the universe transition. (wiki material) The only real difference was that Prussia never lost the swim race to America at the beach, and he never got the chance to train the other in the ways of battle during the Revolutionary War. Therefore, Universe II America wasn’t exactly the best when it came to combat, albeit super strength and magic did help at times. Instead, Prussia focused all of his energy on his swimming and training Hungary. With this fighting knowledge, she went on to learn karate. It was an outcome Prussia still regretted whenever Hungary’s temper flared, and she hit him over the head with a move and her beloved frying pan._

        “It’s nice to meet you though, Alfred,” Hungary stated happily, all of a sudden, almost causing the American to have a heart attack. “And I guess, in a weird way, Prussia is on to something. If you ever want to join the swim team, feel free. We could use more members at the Academy.” Alfred just nodded hastily at the offer, shaking as he was too scared to get on her bad side. He was so nervous, in fact, that he didn’t even ask about whatever this “Academy” thing was. He just attempted to smile as he watched Canada intently, silently wondering if he should run or not. Much to his surprise, Matthew didn’t seem surprised at all by the random mood shift, continuing to beam at America gleefully.

        “Hey, Canada we’re going to gather for the birthday photo soon!” came a sudden boisterous shout from Germany as he peaked his head in through the doorway. “We’ve got to remember this joyous occasion for years to come after all! Come join us, my friend.” Said Canadian visibly sighed at his words as he rolled his eyes slightly.

        “They make me do this stupid photo every year,” Canada groaned as he begrudgingly exited the kitchen and waved for America to follow. “I don’t get it! I mean I know July 1st doesn’t come around every day, but we’re nations! We don’t need millions of photos. Ugh, well I was kinda hoping I could introduce you to your fellow micro-nations next, but I guess I’ll have to do that later. I hope you don’t mind.” America shook his head no, much to his brother’s relief, as he suddenly stopped by the doorway and turned around to face the brunette. It looked to Alfred as though he had a question on his mind, but he wasn’t quite able to form the words probably. They were stuck on his tongue, and no matter how hard he tried, no sound could come out. There was a frown on his face too now that unsettled the American to the bone. Canada never frowned let alone cried, and the only time he had seen that was the day he thought he died...  
  
        “I know this might sound silly,” Canada finally managed to say, “but I was wondering if after the photo and the meeting with the other micro-nations...if you could um...if you could talk with me about something personal. Don’t worry I just want information that’s all. Would you...would you be okay with that?” He glanced back at America with so much intensity and emotion that it almost brought tears to the other’s eyes. Alfred had no clue what was troubling his brother, but he soon found himself nodding mechanically as his brain froze. _How can I say no to that face?_ At that one nod, Matthew quickly found himself grinning again as he took back America’s hand.

        “Great thanks so much for your help,” Canada giggled with joy as he dragged the now quite unwilling American towards a huge hoard of people stationed in front of a camera, “you don’t know how much it means to me!” America barely comprehended his brother’s words. After all, he was too focused on the terror that lay before him, a picture with other people standing in his person space bubble. _Maybe France never woke me up from that nightmare,_ America thought fearfully as sweat began to visibly pour down his cheeks. _Maybe I’m still in it...but no I felt the pinch I gave myself earlier. So this is reality then? Ah, someone please get me out of here! Whatever I did to deserve this torture, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry_! Fortunately, there was one good thing about the photo of death, he got to stand next to his brother the whole time. That was the only factor that made the whole experience bearable.

        “Hey, Lithuania!” Canada shouted as he waved at what appear to be a longer-haired, shyer version of his current self. The other nation blinked back at him as though he wanted to hide behind that camera and never come out. “Are you sure you want to sit out on another photo again? We almost never get any with you in it! Are you positive that you don’t want to join us? France or Germany can always take a turn holding the camera, or we could turn on the timer and have it count off...” Those words appeared to send poor Lithuania into a panic mode as he waved off Canada’s suggestions.

        _Without America, Lithuania, despite the changes in Russia, still never hung out that often with other nations. He grew into himself and enjoyed the confines of his own home more than anything else. It was a miracle that Canada had been able to get the nation to come to his party in the first place, and Lithuania himself still wondered how on Earth he ended up in another building. It was probably Canada’s “disappointment face” that did the trick._

        “Oh, no I’ll be happy to do it,” he whispered as he cut Canada off from behind the device. “I never did like photos anyway...”

        _I never did like photos anyway._ That one sentence, not unlike a curse, made America’s head spin. The sweat that had begun to pour down his head from nerves now began to flood down his face like rain. It also didn’t help that now America’s body felt like a sauna, and his head erupted in a major migraine. He yelped out loud with a sound that was most likely embarrassing, but his head was spinning far too much to care. Waves of nausea hit him forcefully as he fell to the ground with a bang so loud, it made the house shake. He clutched his head in agony, tears welling in his eyes as the world around him seemed to slip further and further away. It was as if every water droplet that fell from his eyes, every scream that escaped his mouth sent him further and further into a downward spiral, and there was no escape...

        “Alfred!” Canada screamed as he rushed to the other’s side. “Are you alright?! What’s bothering you? Come on, speak to me.”

* * *

        Visions passed before America’s eyes. At least, he thought they were visions. There was one of him crying in a hallway. He had his head bent down, hidden amongst his knees as he tucked away his tear-stained face. Before he even had time to process why he was so upset, another appeared as abruptly as the first. Canada was handing him an envelope. He didn’t know what was inside, but something about the gesture made his blood turn cold.

        _What’s, what’s happening to me?!_ America screamed in his brain as the images turned into mere flashes of pictures. _I don’t remember any of this! Am I having another nightmare?_ It sure felt like one to him as the flashes continued. He saw himself fiddling with a maple leaf covered gift. He saw himself hesitating to ring...Canada’s door bell?! He saw himself holding up his wand as a spell came out of his lips like a scream, and a vortex swallowed him up as Canada desperately grasped his fingers for dear life. And then...and then there was _nothing_.

* * *

        America awoke with a start as he sat up suddenly from what looked like...the floor? _Where...where am I?_ he thought through a haze as he glanced at the blurry figures all around him. _This certainly doesn’t look like home. Ugh, well wherever I am, my head is killing me! What did I do to deserve this torture?!_ There were voices too that he noticed. They appeared to be worried voices. That’s all he could make out as he squinted at the main voice in front of him. It appeared to be from a rather familiar blond blob with purples eyes that was waving his hand up and down in front of the other’s face hastily. That only increased the pounding in his brain that he was currently experiencing, and Alfred groaned rather loudly in response as he struggled to recover his bearings. It took a few minutes before everything finally came into focus as the world rushed back to meet him.

        “Mattie, would you stop doing that!” America ordered the blob he realized was Canada firmly as he rubbed his temples in a fit of pain. “You’re making my head spin.”

        “How...how do you...you know my human name?” the Canadian replied with a start as his mouth flew wide open. “I never...I never told it to you.” It was those words that made the American freeze as he took in his brother’s awed expression. _What is he talking about? We’ve lived together our entire lives, and now he thinks I don’t know his own name?! He must have amnesia or something. Yeah, that sounds about right._ Yet, as America surveyed his surroundings and took in bundles and bundles of shocked, terrified, and amazed faces, a suspicion began to arise within him. _Wait a minute! Something doesn’t feel right_...It was right then that it all came back to him: the spell, the wand, England’s message, the curse. It all hit him like the migraine as he stood up in one bold motion, still nauseated beyond belief.

        “Okay, Canada,” Alfred stated firmly as he grabbed his startled brother by the shoulders. “I know this is going to sound crazy, and I know you and Francis and Ludwig and Kiku and the rest probably don’t know who I am right now. Plus, you’re probably scared beyond belief, and that is very understandable. However, there is something that you have to do for me alright? It’s urgent please...please just tell me this one thing. Where’s Arthur?” At the sound of all the human names, the others gasped loudly as they took one step back from the apparent micro-nation. There was some odd and dark and evil magic going on right then and there, and no one liked it one bit. They all eyed the American as though he was some alien that had come to abduct them and run painful experiments.

        “I didn’t tell you England’s name either?!” Canada shouted with fright. “And I thought you said you had never been around another nation before. Did you...lie to me? Who are you?!” that one shout frightened America more than anything as he struggled to steady his breathing, glancing at his twin with the two most pleading eyes ever created.

        “Okay I know you’re upset, but please you just have to take me to him!” America ordered again as the pain in his brain doubled, and he swayed slightly from side to side. “This is a matter of life or death. This whole world could shatter, or worse! Please you have to remember me. I’m A...” Alfred didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as he once again crashed to the ground with a thump, and everything faded to blackness...

* * *

        America awoke for what he didn’t know was the fourth time that day as he rubbed his sweaty forehead with shaking hands. A figure was seated before him, a figure that was shaking him violently which was not helping his swimming head by any means and made him want desperately to throw up. _Ugh, would you stop doing that mysterious person!_ Alfred mentally shouted. _And where am I anyway, the floor?_ He got hit with a serous wave of déjà vu as he blinked up at the blond hunched over him, struggling to sit up ever so slowly.

        “You are who?” the figure he now realized was Canada asked fervently. “You were going to tell me something, and then you collapsed again. What were you going to tell me? You are A...what?” _Oh, that’s right, the party!_ America thought in his brain as he ignored Canada altogether. _That’s right we were about ready to take a photo and then Lithuania said something and I had this weird dream...or were they visions? I couldn’t actually tell the difference...oh wait Canada wanted an answer didn’t he? What was he asking again, my name? Didn’t I already tell him? Oh well, people tend to forget it anyways._

        “I’m, Alfred,” America managed to state once his migraine died down significantly, “but I already told you that, remember? Are you feeling alright?” Canada’s eyes grew huge as he stared intensely at the other. He looked as though he was going to faint at any moment as he placed a hand on his temples to steady himself. Alfred just looked back at him, anxiety quickly enveloping his body the longer the silence was held. _Did I do something wrong? Why is he staring at me like that? I didn’t upset him did I?_ Pretty soon though it seemed Canada had calmed down significantly as he took in a deep breath and spoke again.

        “Alfred, I could be asking you the same question,” Canada murmured softly as he placed the back of his palm on the nation’s forehead. “You did just faint on all of us. Do you not remember that happening?” As soon as he finished that question, he drew his hand back in shock. “And you’re burning up! You must be so hot that you’re growing delirious or something. Yeah, that’s probably it.”

        “A fever...” Alfred muttered in a confusion as he struggled to come to a standing position despite France’s protests. “Wait a minute did you say I fainted? I don’t remember that at all...” Canada’s eyes began to narrow at his response. It wasn’t a bad narrow as though he were angry at the other nation for deceiving him. No, it was more of the intense thinking eye narrowing that occurs when a light bulb is lit up in the brain.

        “Huh, you don’t remember the fainting,” Canada muttered softly as fiddled with his fingers ever so slightly. “Do you remember trying to take the group photo yourself, insisting that Lithuania get a chance to finally be in one?”

        Canada had that look in his eyes as though he was giving the American a riddle that he was forced to solve. It was as though if he picked the wrong answer their whole relationship would be over, and he would never get the chance to confess to his brother his true identity. Needless to say, it made America’s mouth run dry as he fought through the nerves to come up with a reply. _I don’t, I don’t remember doing that at all. That does sound like me though. I’d do anything not to have to take a photo with other people breathing all over me. Perhaps I really did do that. If I don’t remember fainting, then who knows what I could’ve done. Hopefully I haven’t said anything stupid._ The Canadian grunted softly, after a while, as Alfred realized he was going to have to come up with something and fast.

        “I don’t think I did that,” he whimpered softly as he clutched his spinning head once more, “but I don’t even remember how I got on the floor...maybe I asked that. I do hate getting pictures taken of myself.” Canada hummed thoughtfully at that as he gazed quizzically at the brunette.

        “Hm, well I don’t know what’s wrong with you and who you are for that matter,” Canada stated frankly, “but there are a couple of things I do know. For one, you’re clearly sick, and whether that has something to do with your current state, I don’t know. Second, you don’t seem to be lying to me. To be honest, I think you’re having troubles with your memory. Do you happen to remember asking for England?”

        “No, I...I don’t remember doing that at all.”

        “And what’s his first name, his human first name I mean?”

        “I don’t...I’ve never met him in my life. How would I know?”

        “Interesting cause you were fully capable of telling me that a couple minutes ago,” Canada hummed again as the other nations continued to gape at this new and incredibly weird stranger. America wanted to go invisible for the rest of his life he was so creeped out, and the pairs of eyes that continuously watched him, now with more fervor, only made the situation a gazillion times worse. _How could I possibly know England?_ Alfred struggled to understand. _The only nation I’ve known before today was Canada. This is weird. This is weird, and that’s coming from a guy with a magic fairy wand!_

        “Ugh, I think I know what’s happening!” Canada shouted in exasperation. “I don’t know how, but it must have been England that did this to you. He’s always off doing shifty things, and dark magic is right up his ally. You probably did meet, and he cursed you or something. I’m going to have to have a long talk with him when I see him next. He shouldn’t go around using spells on other people. That’s rude! He’s so immature sometimes it’s unbelievable. I’m so sorry, Alfred, for whatever he did to you. I really am. Don’t worry he’s going to pay for it!”

        With that, a glint appeared in Canada’s eyes much like France whenever he caught sight of a tailgater. It didn’t help, of course, that his words made no sense at all to America as he just swayed lightly from side to side in bewilderment. _Am I actually cursed? No, that can’t be right at all! I have to get out of here and think. Maybe being around all of these other insane nations has made me crazy. I must get out of here right now!_ He quickly patted himself off a bit as he doubled checked that his wand was still tucked away safely inside his shirt before he made his getaway. He sighed in relief, a sound that went unnoticed by Canada as he shouted about whatever this “England” character had done this time. He caught something about “another phase again” and other bits and pieces that only built onto his urgency to flee.

        “Look,” America stated firmly as he wiped some of the sweat off of his forehead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about or who this England is. But I’m feeling really terrible right now, so if you excuse me, I’m going to find the nearest restroom.” He left before Canada even got the chance to point him in the right direction. All he caught sight of was a brief nod before he bolted towards his destination, almost running into a couple nations in the process. Luckily, they didn’t seem to mind that he was a complete bowl in a china shop, and they just stood there miffed at this so called “Onjklrsta.” Alfred couldn’t have cared less about their reactions as he made his way towards what seemed like a bathroom, and he shut the door hastily behind himself. A deep sigh escaped his mouth as he slid down the pane of wood and onto the tiled flooring, grateful for the cold it brought.

        “Why me?" he managed to mutter out quietly through a fit of sobs. "Why do I have to be unlucky? Why does everything weird always have to happen to me?! Can't karma ever learn to take a vacation? I mean I'm only nineteen!" Midway through his murmurings, the door suddenly flew open with a bang and closed just as quickly as a hurried man waltzed on in. He had light blond hair ruffled about, deep green eyes, and a rather odd tweed hat perched on the top of his head. However, what struck America the most was the man's eyebrows. Eyebrows that seemed so thick that they could be caterpillars. Eyebrows that would scar a hairdresser for life. Eyebrows that were currently furrowing in confusion and worry as the emerald orbs gazed in his direction.

        "I'm so very sorry," said man spoke with a heavy British accent. "I rushed in here without bothering to check if anyone was inside. Please do forgive me, mate. Also, might I wonder what on Earth you're doing on the floor like that? Are you alright?" America just blinked up at the other in wonder, his head still in too much of a daze to respond. Plus, he had just been practically bowled over when the man made his entrance, and the abrupt shock hadn’t quite left yet.

        “Oh me?” he answered at last as he let out a not so hidden groan. “Yeah, I’m perfectly fine. I just have this fever that’s been bothering me, and the side of my head is feeling like it’s going to fall off that’s all.”

        “You surely don’t sound fine, love,” the Brit replied with a frown as he began to open a cabinet above the sink and pour through its contents. “Now let’s see if I can find any...ah ha painkillers! This medicine should do you some good. They won’t fix the fever, but they might just help with that migraine of yours. Here take this medicine, and here’s some water to wash it down.” The stranger soon handed America two familiar rusty-colored pills and a paper cup which Alfred took gratefully, washing them down his throat hastily as he gazed up at the elder nation for what felt like the first real time.

        “Thank...thank you,” he whispered sincerely as he relished in the cold water rushing down his throat. “I needed that.”

        “Oh, no need to thank me, my dear Watson,” the stranger chuckled warmly, almost causing America to choke in surprise. “It’s only elementary.”

        _As you can probably tell by the eyebrows, the stranger was indeed England. Life was a bit of a struggle for him without America. Without the little colony for company, he didn’t make a whole lot of friends besides his brothers (plus Canada), and life became kind of lonely. So he found ways to entertain himself in the art of magic and folklore. Well, that is until his wand went missing around the early seventeenth century (He was still convinced that France had taken it.), and his magic career was done for. So he enveloped himself in another passion of his, literature. He delved deeper into books, plot, and mystery. He dove so deep, in fact, that well...that he became the characters themselves._

        “Wait, I don’t think you know what you’re saying!” America cried in surprise as he realized yet another nation was actually insane. “I’m not a doctor, and I’m pretty sure my name is Alfred, Alfred F. Jones. Who...who are you exactly?” America just kept blinking rapidly as he pondered wether or not the stranger had seriously given him painkillers, or they were some sort of hallucinogen that was making him go nuts. _Is everyone around me crazy, or am I the crazy one,_ America thought in a panic. _Oh, please let me be the normal one!_

        “I’m Sherlock Holmes, of course!” the Brit cried with a bit of surprise as he furrowed those bushy eyebrows of his. “How could you forget that, my friend? Wow, the fever must be seriously messing with your brain. Don’t worry! We’ll get you fixed up in no time, old chap.” He then proceeded to pat the other on the back gingerly as though they had known each other their entire lives. America just blinked again at the explanation, this time too worn out and exhausted to be surprised anymore.

        “I take it you’re England,” Alfred sighed as he stared at the probably insane blond in front of him. It wasn’t hard for him to figure out the man’s identity. After all, the accent and the famous detective were dead give aways. _Whatever has happened to his mind has to be the result of some serious magic, dark magic. How else can you explain it?_

        “Well, as long as you’re feeling better, my dear Watson, I’m going to search for another loo,” England said happily as he proceeded to ignore America’s words altogether. “I’ve got to get back to my detective work after all. There’s always a mystery waiting to be solved!” With those words, he proceeded to tip his tweed hat before promptly exiting the bathroom, leaving Alfred alone and utterly miffed. _Does anyone else know about his condition?_ he silently wondered as he tossed the empty paper cup into the trash bin. _Canada should probably have him go see a doctor and fast, or he’s going to end up trying to take down murders or something and get himself killed._ America shivered at that thought as he stared at the wall in front of him. _I certainly know all about that don’t I?_

        It was at that moment that the doorbell decided to ring. Now, normally that sound wouldn’t have affected the American at all. The ring was certainly not to blame. It was joyous and upbeat as though every single visitor that stepped inside Canada’s house was the Queen of England. No, it wasn’t the ring that upset him the most; there was something else that bothered him as if a mouse had crawled down his shirt as he struggled the bat it with a broom. _It’s pretty late for a new visitor isn’t it? Alfred wondered soundlessly to himself as he eased his way off of the floor. I mean I know France and I were late, but it’s close to midnight by now! Who in there right mind would show up at midnight to a party that started hours ago, the police?_ Whoever it was at the door, made America’s skin crawl as goosebumps spread across his body like a plague.

        Ever so carefully, he eased the door open ajar as he gazed into the front room timidly, ready to escape back into his hideaway at a moment’s notice. The first thing he caught sight of was Canada. He was standing in front of the doorway like the gracious host he was with his eyes fixed on a figure looming in the frame. Alfred’s first thought was that his brother looked shocked as though the mysterious guest had drawn a knife on him, but as he absorbed his wide, open mouth and the twinkle in his eyes, he realized that his twin’s face was that of complete joy. It was the kind of joy one only sees in a child when they discover finger painting for the first time, yet even that wasn’t enough to describe the emotion brewing within the Canadian. It was just so raw and powerful like a star burning brightly from millions of miles away.

        “America,” Canada whispered softly as a stream of tears began to pour down from his glittering eyes as a wide grin spread across his face. At the sound of his own name, Alfred froze as his heart forgot how to beat altogether. _No, no that can’t be right!_ he screamed internally. _I’m America! That’s my name! There can’t be two Americas!!! Unless...no it can’t be._ A panic spread across the nation, a panic that made him sprint faster than he had ever run before towards his twin, words on the tip of his tongue before his brain knew what hit him.

        “Canada, whatever you do don’t let him in!” America shrieked at the top of his lungs as he lunged towards the doorway. “They’re dangerous! I repeat step away from the door, and don’t let him in the house. Trust me!”

 _Atlas, unfortunately for America,_   _his warning failed to reach Canada’s ears as the figure crossed the threshold. They were here._

 


	6. Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve never been able to defeat us though even with that probably stolen wand of yours. Do you know why? It’s because you’re weak. You’re weak, and you just continue to run around in circles, chasing your own tail. I say let’s get this over with and end it already. I’ve had enough of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I’m back with chapter six whoot whoot, and this is about halfway through! This is the chapter where more questions will be answered, and the 2ps finally make their appearance. I’m sorry if their personalities are off! I also tried to include only the evil ones/neutral, and more will pop up. It’s just hard to work with a bunch of people at once. This is also a bit more of a bloody chapter, but I tried to limit it as much as possible. I haven’t written a fight scene in four years, so I’m quite a bit rusty. Also, I’m going to be traveling soon, so the schedule might be a bit wonky. Still, I’m going to try to update as soon as I can, and until next time, here’s a wicked long chapter.

       

_Warning: This chapter is a bit more bloody. I tried to limit it as much as I could, but be aware of that._

_Now you might be wondering about the “they” that America is referring to. Are they distant cousins or relatives? Probably not. Are they friendly visitors that happen to be friends with Canada? Nope. Are they the murders he was referring to earlier? Most likely. Now, while their purpose and their origin is set to be unveiled at another time, their interference in America’s life began years earlier just before the start of the Revolutionary War._

Universe: Take Two  
Date: July 4th, 1773  
Place: Green Dragon Tavern, MA  
America’s Age: Around 18

        “Mrs. Higgins?” shouted Alfred giddily as he rushed into the brick tavern, a crate of vegetables cradled under his arm like a paperweight. “I’ve got the produce you asked for.” With one arm, he gently eased open the door, and he plopped the crate onto the countertop, grinning from ear to ear. The colony had only been the elderly woman’s assistant of sorts for a couple of years, and he was always overjoyed with his job. Not only did he get paid a fair wage for his services, but Mrs. Higgins allowed him to live in a spare room upstairs. Sure he could hear drunkards shouting late into the night, but compared to the forests and alleyways he had previously slept in, the straw bed was paradise. Plus, the ancient woman with her peculiar spectacles and tightly kept bun was the closest he had come to a friend (besides Canada) or grandmother even. Well, there was Davie, but his mind couldn’t bare the pain of hearing that name again.

        “Hello,” America called again, this time several decibels louder. “Mrs. Higgins? Are you home, Mrs. Higgins?”

        His lips curled slightly downwards as anxiety began to seep its way into his mind. Sure the lady was elderly, especially for her time period, but it wasn’t like her to not respond to one of his greetings. She was always there at the door, ready to give him a freshly knit sweater and call him childish nicknames that made him cringe as he smiled inwardly. Yet, that day...that day the tavern was empty and bare as though someone had decide to shout “Fire!” at the top of their lungs. Needless to say, the young America was officially freaked out. _Could she be sleeping in her bedroom or something?_ he wondered soundlessly. _She’s not one to sleep in late though. I wonder...is she ill or something? Let me go check._

        He bounded up the oak stairs with heavy footfalls in his haste, causing the poor wooden planks to creak in annoyance. It wasn’t long before he reached her room towards the back, and he noticed yet another oddity. The door was shut tightly. Mrs. Higgins never shut her doors during the summer time. No, she preferred to keep every entryway and window open so the fresh air could circulate through the musty building. The sight only added to the brunette’s worries as he timidly raised a shaking hand and clutched his trembling fingers into a fist. _Should I even go in there?_ America asked himself. _She could be changing for all I know. Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt to knock._ He rapped on the door lightly. No response. He rapped on the door louder. This time he tapped into some of his super strength, almost blowing the wooden panel off of its hinges. No response. 

        “Mrs. Higgins,” America yelled as he put his ear to the door frame, “are you in there?! You’re scaring me.” Yes, he was scared. For the second time in his life, he was scared beyond reason as his ears pounded, and his lungs felt like they were on fire. There was no hesitation in his mind now as he gripped the knob to her bedroom and swung the door wide open with a bang that definitely left quite the dent in the wall.

        “Thomas?” came a faint whisper so quiet America never would have heard it if he hadn’t been more than human. “Is that you, Thomas?”

        _After America “lost” Canada, he struggled to fit in with the new colonists. He soon gave himself the name Thomas as it was the first English name he had ever heard, and since then, he had kept the label despite a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that it wasn’t quite...right._

        America sprinted towards the source of the voice as he rushed around to the other side of the bed to find a lump lying down on the ground. There was movement visible on this lump as it rose up and down shakily but steadily, much to the young colony’s relief. He gently lifted the quilt covering this lump to reveal a terrified Mrs. Higgins, her eyes wide in their sockets and her whole body trembling as though an earthquake was planted in her bones. To make matters worse, her head was strikingly covered in a crimson stain with horrifying puncture wounds. The young America felt his stomach churning inside at the sight, but he held back the sickening sensation as he wiped droplets of sweat off of the old lady’s forehead.  
  
        “Yes, it’s me, Mrs. Higgins,” he replied delicately as though she were some piece of porcelain that was going to shatter at any second. “It’s me, Thomas. I’m right here. I’m right here, and I’m not going to let anyone do this to you again. Do you hear that? This person is going to pay! Now, who do I get to punch?” The elderly woman chuckled through shaky breaths as she glanced up at the youth with her chestnut eyes.

        “You always were spirited,” she murmured softly as she placed her fingertips on America’s cheek, “so much life in you. I wish I was your age again.”

        “Mrs. Higgins, are you going to be alright?” the younger questioned, miffed and frightened by her casual tone. “You’re not going to die...are you?”

        “Thomas!” she shouted in disapproval with so much passion and vitality, it almost made the young American faint. “What did I say about my death?”

        “You won’t die until the heavens strike you down with lighting?”

        “You’ve got that right,” Mrs. Higgins muttered quietly again as she beamed up at her trembling assistant and grabbed one of his hands firmly in her own. It was as though she was communicating to America that she was strong enough to live, that nothing in the whole universe was ever going to be able to take her down. The younger couldn’t help but tear up at the sight as he gripped her hand back for dear live.

        “Are you quite sure about that?” came a sudden voice as a figure emerged from out of nowhere. To the American, he looked almost like a mirror copy of himself except in the worst and creepiest way possible. He had messy, auburn hair and eyes so red, they looked like they belonged more to a demon than a person. Yet, the feature that struck young America the most was his baseball bat, fitted with nails that stuck out like thorns and covered in a vibrant scarlet. _Her blood,_ America thought bitterly as he jumped up off of the ground. _This is the man who attacked her. He could...could have killed her! He will pay for that!_

        “He’s here again,” Mrs. Higgins whimpered, her confident demeanor quickly vanishing before the country’s eyes. “He’s come to finish the job.” _Finish the job._ Those words chilled America more than anything as he stood up and positioned himself in front of the elderly woman like a stonewall. If her words were true, and he was out to kill her, he’d have to get through the colony first. Yet, even America’s bravery started to thin as the maniac began to edge closer to their side of the room with a glint in his eyes the youth only thought was possible in nightmares. Plus, his shirt itself was so deeply stained red and tattered beyond repair, that he had the appearance of a crazed serial killer, a look which caused the young colony to shake even more in terror.

        “Who are you?” he questioned with a tremor as he practically stuttered out his words in fear. “Or um...what are you?” The man, much to America’s surprise, laughed at his question. It wasn’t the pleasant laugh though that one hears after a friend tells an incredible joke. It wasn’t even the kind of cackle one expects to come out of a crazed witch. No, it was the kind of laugh that could cause a body to both want to freeze up in panic and run away in terror all at the same time. It was a laugh that could only be experienced in person, a laugh that could kill if it had a mind of its own.

        “Who am I?” the stranger mocked as he stepped dangerously close to the young colony, his bat inches from the other’s head. “Who am I? I thought you’d know the answer to that already, America. I’m you after all! Or should I say I’m your worst nightmare? Oh, and I’m afraid...” he stated eerily plainly as he raised his bat high in the air, “there’s only room for one America in the world, and it’s going to be me.”

        Time after that appeared to crawl for America. He knew he was about to be killed. He knew that the bat could come down at any second and begin striking him squarely on the head. He knew of the wicked smile that creeped up the other’s lips like a parasite. But he also knew about the old woman still breathing behind him. He could hear each of those staggered breaths as she looked on, completely petrified. He could sense her fear as it encompassed her, all the color draining from her cheeks. _This is all my fault,_ he couldn’t help but point out as the wooden stick inched closer and closer. _He’s after me...I put her in danger didn’t I? Now, I’m going to die, and she’s injured. What a waste of a nation I am._

        Yet, it was also in the second half of that moment that an idea struck him as multitudes of neurons lit up in his brain. Without a second to spare, he reached for the familiar wand from its hidden place in his coat, drawing it out like he would a sword. If magic could get him out of a fire about to destroy a whole forest, magic was going to get him away from this psychopath. Despite his shaking limbs, despite the weapon now mere centimeters from his forehead, his tongue formed the words like a scream.

        “Get us out of here!” he shouted with a roar. With one flick of the fairy stick, there was a blinding flash so bright it could have blinded him for life, and then the two tumbled out onto the dusty road outside as broad daylight washed away some of the previous gloom. They had made it to safety. _I did it,_ the colony thought in relief. _We’re...we’re alive. We got away from him._ He stumbled up from the ground in a haze, still too dazed as his head continued to spin. Yet, despite the disorientation, the colony turned his attention back to Mrs. Higgins as he examined her closely.

        It was obvious to him once he looked at her that she was on the verge of unconsciousness. Wether that was from the blood loss or their encounter with his evil clone, America had no idea. He did know one thing though. _This is all my fault!_ he thought angrily to himself. _If I hadn’t been around, she never would have gotten hurt. He’s after me, after all, and she...she took the bullet._ He shivered at that as guilt began to eat him rapidly as he stared down at all the terrible gore. There was only one option he knew he had. There was only one way to keep her safe. That was to never go near her ever again and stay banished...forever. With one last shout to alert a pedestrian in the area to fetch a doctor immediately, he vanished without a trace. He vanished from her life altogether. Yet, little did he know, the frail woman spoke to him one last time before he disappeared.

 _“_ Long live the Revolution,” she whispered as she watched him fade into nothingness.

        _From that day onward, the nation learned to hide his tracks. He took to shapeshifting, altering aspects of his appearance bit by bit to create new identities in new states with multiple new names. It was a wild goose chase except he was the goose, always running away from the next horror that came his way. There were multiple instances that followed the Mrs. Higgins episode as the same man and more of these ”monsters” arrived from out of nowhere. Sometimes it was a friend that would be killed. Sometimes it was himself that would come close to dying. Either way, he learned to trust no one, to get close to no one. No matter how many times the creatures came after him, he vowed never to let them hurt anyone again, to never let anyone get close enough to him to become vulnerable._

        _In fact, the only real friend he’d had in a while was Tony, a being durable enough to withstand the constant evil that he faced. Although he still chose to keep his country identity a secret out of fear for the alien’s life, together they started an offensive against the attackers. They hacked national documents, video cameras, anything they could get a hold of that would pinpoint the location of the killers. With his new identity as Alfred F. Jones and the alien as backup, America thought he had finally leaped two steps ahead of the creatures...or so he thought._

* * *

 

Universe: Universe Two  
Time: Present  
Place: Canada’s House

        America watched in horror as his double eased his way through the door, a smirk clearly evident on his face. He was the same photocopy of himself on the day he attacked the poor tavern owner. He had the same piecing red eyes, the same beat-up look to him, the same laugh that seemed as if could kill anyone if they so much as heard it. The only thing that appeared to be different was the bomber jacket that covered his shoulders and the undone button on his white shirt to show off his strength and domination. He even had that familiar bat that Alfred recognized all too well with its bent nails and stained wood as though it hadn’t been cleaned in centuries. To make matters worse, America could hear the footsteps of the _others_ behind him, others that always made the once solo fight a thousand times more difficult. It didn’t help, of course, that Canada was completely spellbound by his so called brother back from the dead.

        “America!” he shouted, this time in awe and joy, as he completely ignored all the evil signs displayed in front of him. “You’re alive! I can’t believe it! I mean I always hoped you were alive, but I thought I saw evidence that told me you were well...not so alive. How did you escape the fire? Why didn’t you come to me? Where have you been? What’s with the dyed hair and colored contacts. You haven’t become some kind of spy have you? I mean I would still love you anyways; I was just wondering. I guess what I mean to say is...I missed you. I missed you so so much I...” It was at that point that his once overjoyed rant turned into sobs upon sobs as he stared into the ruby eyes in front of him, shaking as he was flooded with a sea of emotions beyond his control.

        The real America watched on, completely petrified, as he stood behind his twin. It was painfully obvious to him that his clone, or Allen as he learned to call him, was focused more on him than the crying Canadian. He had once again gained the upper hand over Alfred, and the brunette could tell by that grin that he was rather pleased with himself. _How dare he carry that smug look on his face, how dare he act like me, and how dare he toy with Canada’s feelings like that! I’m his brother not that monster. This has to stop and fast before he kills anyone else._ America took advantage of Canada’s crying to ever so carefully maneuver himself in front of his twin, keeping his attention locked on his nemesis the whole time. Alfred knew that one distracted second was all it would take for him to make a move, and he’d be done for.

        “Step away from him,” America all but growled as he glared as his enemy with so much intensity it could have set a match on fire. “I swear if you lay a finger on him, I will end you, you manipulative psychopath!” Allen just continued to grin that twisted smile that made Alfred clench his fists in fury as he thrust one arm out in front of his brother protectively. The gesture shocked Canada out of his stupor as he gaped at the other in shock before swatting the barrier away.

        “Alfred, how could you?!” he shouted at the mysterious behavior. “He’s my brother not some criminal. Why are you threatening him?!”

        “Are you sure he’s your brother?” America questioned, urgency clear in his voice as continued to give his clone a death glare. “Are you really sure?”

        “Yes, I’m positive,” Canada insisted fiercely, a bit taken a back by the other’s current attitude. “I’d know that cowlick anywhere.”

        “Would your brother carry around a bloody baseball bat, fit with nails?”

        “No, of course not. That would be creepy. America would never do such a thing! Wait a minute...oh. _Oh_.” It was at that point that Canada realized a critical thing. That man was, in fact, not his brother after all. He was so alarmed and yet let down at the same time that he just remained frozen as though his brain was too filled with emotions to cope with the scene taking place around him.

        “You’re not so innocent yourself, Mark,” Alfred’s double laughed eerily as he stepped far too close for comfort, causing America to jut out his hand barrier once again in front of Canada, “or is it, Thomas? Who knows what identity you’ve decided to take this time. I do like your new get up though. Pathetic nerd suits you.” The American gritted his teeth as Allen all but blew his secret, and plus, that nerd comment stung more than he thought it would. _I am a geek, not a nerd, a geek._ However, he had more important things to worry about as he heard a gasp escape from Canada’s mouth behind him. It was a gasp of utter surprise and betrayal that made America know at once that the other had lost all his faith in him. Unfortunately, he never got the chance to respond and explain the misunderstanding for the _others_ began to file in.

        The first one Alfred recognized automatically, and he not so secretly groaned as Oliver walked into view. Unlike the true England he had met earlier, this version had strawberry blond hair so pale it looked pink and cheery, pale blue eyes that made America wince. His outfit was the usual pastel purple vest, lavender shirt, and light blue bowtie that made him look as though he were going to a baby shower. To make matters worse, America eyed a cupcake in a similar color scheme as his get up, stationed rather peacefully on a matching lavender plate. _He decided to bake something,_ America sighed soundlessly as he eyed the Brit. _Of course, he decided to bake something. Ugh, why me, and why today of all days! All I wanted was some milk from the grocery store!_

        Canada’s clone, Matt, soon followed suit, looking rather surly with his dark, blond hair tied in an unkept ponytail and his open, red flannel. It didn’t help that he wore shades so dark one could only guess at his emotions (probably irritated beyond reason), and he carried his hockeystick, armed with barbed wire, over his shoulder threateningly. France’s double took up the rear as he sluggishly walked in with an appearance that screamed “I really don’t want to be here right now. Please can I just leave?!” His unkept hair, half-hazardously buttoned purple shirt, and scruffy chin that looked like he hadn’t shaved in months only added to the effect as he glared at anyone who stared his way. A cigarette lay twisted between his fingertips which he blew every once in a while to ignore the stares. There were a lot of said stares too now that the whole crowd of nations grew wary of the ominous strangers, and many countries backed away from the door hastily.

        “Where’s the birthday boy?” Oliver asked suddenly as he held out the plate in front of him with a tone far too sickly sweet for America’s liking. “I baked him a cupcake to celebrate the occasion. I hope he likes vanilla!”

        “Canada, don’t eat anything he gives you,” Alfred warned as he glanced rapidly back at his still frozen brother. “It’s definitely poisoned.”

        “Only the frosting,” Oliver pouted as he glanced dejectedly at his masterpiece, “and you ruined the surprise once again! Why must you always mess up everything?” Alfred sighed in relief at the close call as the creature tossed his precious work into the nearest trashcan. Unfortunately for America, once that problem was destroyed another rose in its place. The cause of that issue was England, the real England. He had bolted out of the bathroom a few moments earlier once he heard the ruckus and was now nearing his peculiar double. He had his eyes locked on him as though he was both startled and inexplicably curious all at the same time. It seemed the later was about to get him into a bit of a predicament.

        “Moriarty, is that you?” he asked silently as a small tremor spread though his body. “I thought you died after falling into that waterfall. How...how in the world did you survive?” America whipped his head around in shock as he eyed the island nation fearfully. _Of all the people he could have picked for Oliver’s character, he had to choose Sherlock’s arch-nemesis, and he had to say that out loud! He’s going to get himself killed like I thought he would!_ While Alfred’s attention was averted by the Englishman as he neared the murderous baker, Allen inched closer as he raised his nail laden bat above his head. Maybe it was the gasps from the crowd or previous experience or instinct even, but America’s focus abruptly switched direction just in time to see the weapon poised for action.

        Now, he had a couple choices he could have taken in this situation. The first and gut reaction would have been to just doge the object as it came crashing down, yet Alfred knew from previous fights that he’d just raise his bat high in the air once more. He might have been super strong, but he couldn’t doge that thing forever. The second option would have been to kick Allen as hard as he could in the groin, but he didn’t exactly have the well...coordination. Therefore, the most sensible plan to him was plan c, magic his way out of the dilemma. He did happen to have his own wand tucked away in his shirt, and it was fairly easy to uncover the magical item mid-battle. Yet, there was a negative outcome of that solution, everyone would know he had a magic wand. _Canada’s really not going to trust me after this_ , America remembered thinking as he ignored his reasoning in favor of defending himself.

        “Barrier!” he shouted rather boldly as he swiftly tore his wand out from its hiding spot and conjured up a protection spell just in time. Blue sparks flew from the star tip of the stick like a firework display as they forced a wall of energy in front of America, propelling Allen and the baseball bat away from himself. Alfred watched in shock and amazement as he was flung back towards the wooden wall behind him, hitting the surface with a loud thud. More gasps could be heard from the countries at the sight as all of them this time stepped far, far away from the magical fairy wand. _Great now they dislike me too,_ America sighed mentally as his eyes drifted over to his northern brother. He was most certainly surprised that was for sure, even in his petrified state, as he just stared as the magical barrier of blue energy in front of him, rippling as though someone had chucked a ginormous stone in a minuscule pond.

        “Alfred?” Canada whimpered abruptly, as he emerged from his suspended animation, almost causing the American to lose focus as he kept his attention fixed on the force field. “What’s going on?”

        “Just stay back and stay safe,” he ordered instead of a reply as he focused on extending the range of the barrier to surround the quivering nations. “I know how to deal with these things. You just sit tight, and let me handle it.” Wether Canada caught any of what he said or not America didn’t know for he charged right straight ahead through the barrier, leaving the others protected and himself completely bare and vulnerable in front of the murders who had tried to kill him previously on numerous occasions. Now, yes it was a bad move for him to run out from his cover, but Alfred’s head was too dizzy to focus at that point. There were just too many worries and issues at hand that needed to be attended to all at once, and there was only one thing that he could concentrate on, taking them down.

        “Get out of this house,” America screamed so loud he could have sworn his lungs were bleeding, “you monsters!” With that, he sent a fiery ball of the same sparkling blue energy towards his enemy. He watched intently as it rocketed towards Allen’s face with great speed. He watched as it neared his eyeglasses perched on his nose. He watched as it deflected off of his nemesis in a burst of purple energy as it was sent crashing his way, forcing the American to duck for cover? _Oh, no this can’t be good,_ he thought miserably as he watched the energy ball nearly collide with several other nations as it was hurled in the other direction, hitting the barrier with a thud. _Is this also magic? No, that can’t be! No one can use magic this powerful and focused without some sort of tool. Unless...no this can’t be happening!_

        “Thanks for the help, Francois,” Allen grinned wickedly as he relished in the look of awe displayed on America’s face. “That wand does come in handy doesn’t it?” _A wand?!_ America screamed silently as he stared, eyes bulging out of their sockets, at the stick held in the evil Frenchman’s right hand. _There’s no way he could possibly have a wand! I’m the only one who has an artifact like that. How did he get his hands on it? Well, I guess there’s no time to worry about that now. I have to get that wand away from him. My life and the others and Canada’s depend on it. After all, the only reason why I’m still alive today is because of magic, and if they continue to have a wand, we could be done for._

        “I hate all of you,” the France clone just grumbled in annoyance at the other. “Can I go home now?” As Allen was getting ready to yell at the other for complaining, America readied himself to make a break for the wand in the precious moment of distraction. Right when the words began to trickle out of his enemy’s mouth, he tucked his wand back in his shirt and lunged at the Frenchman with all his might as he let his feet propel himself up off of the floor. He felt his hand reach out as his fingers stretched open wide to cling onto the end of the magical stick. He felt them brush against the smooth surface as he pulled his arm back gently. He felt his head being bashed by the weight of a hockeystick knocking him down forcefully as barbed wire dug painfully into his skin. America yelped as he was forced to pull his hand back from the prize and sprint out of the way of another one of Matt’s menacing blows.

        “If you thought you could get away with a trick like that,” Canada’s evil double yelled gruffly at the injured American, “you are clearly mistaken.” _Right I can’t focus on grabbing the wand when there are more psychopaths out to kill me,_ Alfred noted in his brain. _Got it. How the heck am I going to be able to get the second wand then? Well, I guess I can try taking one down at a time and narrowing down the playing field. That’s right, America, you can do this. Just try to blast that stupid hockeystick to pieces._ That thought, it turned out, was easier conjured than done as he was forced to scramble out of the way of a series of murderous attacks as he tried once again to pry his own magical weapon out from its hiding space. After a couple hundred close calls and much struggling on his part, he once again gripped his own wand in his hand, this time the master of concentration.

        “Back off!” America shouted with a sliver of bravery he never knew he had. A ray of turquoise light flew from his wand and hit the Canadian’s weapon right on target. Before everyone’s eyes, the hockeystick shattered, as though it was made of glass, into millions of wood and metal projectiles the soared hazardously back towards the blue energy barrier. Fortunately, the protective wall held as the splinters and shards blew up as they collided with its surface. Still, that didn’t stop the other nations from screaming as yells and shouts could be heard from behind the American. He winced at their terrified reactions but sighed in relief that his safety net held up. _Maybe I can do this after all. I’ve just got to take my time and be patient._

        “Ah!” Alfred shrieked as a searing pain flew up his right hand. It was as though his hand was covered in ice water. No, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t cold per say just in agony as his wand fell out of his hand and clattered to the ground precariously. He had half the mind to kick it safely beneath himself where the others couldn’t reach it as he clutched his right hand, screams not so secretly tearing their way out of his lungs. It was clear to him once he felt the metal and warm, crimson blood seeping out of the fresh wound what had happened. Oliver, after being previously utterly confused by his double’s random Sherlock references, had delicately aimed a wickedly sharp pairing knife his way. Now it was logged in his hand like it was a soft tomato, sending waves of torture up America’s arm every single time he shifted his position.

        “That’s what you get for ruining the surprise,” Oliver giggled with a sugar-coated voice as he smiled at his fine handwork. “Maybe next time you won’t give away the secrets of my baking!” It chilled America to the spine to know that a murderous creature like him could act as though he was a pleasant little angel, but he had more important things to worry about. _And he got me right in my dominant wand hand. Lovely. Now what am I supposed to do?! I can’t pull it out; I need a doctor to do that part for me. Well, there’s no way that’s going to happen soon enough, so here it goes, I guess. Better stop it from digging into me further._ With a scream, Alfred pulled the knife out of his hand, almost fainting at the sight and feeling as he crinkled up like a ball of foil wrap and fell to the floor. There he held his hand as though it was some sort of baby, sobbing now as the pain only continued to spread as if it was circulating throughout his entire body.

        “Heal!” America shouted desperately as he scoped up his wand with his trembling left hand, breathing a sigh of relief as waves of soothing magical sparks began their journey to his open wound. Luckily, he knew how magic worked, or he could have bled to death right then and there. Magic is what got him into that mess, and magic was what saved him as his injury began to slowly but surely fade away as he let his body repair the damage. It wasn’t enough to fully heal the ache that still soared through the nerves in his hand, but it was enough for Alfred to once again be able to clutch his wand again. This time though he was much more out of control as he held the stick loosely in his shaking grip.

       “Not again,” the evil Englishman sighed distastefully as he clicked his tongue at the American. “Francois would you be a dear and destroy him for me?” The Frenchman automatically sighed at the request as he pulled out the dark wand from one of his practically torn pockets.

        “You guys suck,” he groaned as he spit out the cigarette from his mouth, allowing it to hit the wooden floor. Alfred was just glad the thing was almost out, or it would have practically burned the house down. That was one thing that could have made the situation a million times worse. Another thing which actually did happen was the swish of the wand the Frenchman made, conjuring a set of butcher’s knives from out of thin air. _Why did it have to be knives that he made? Why do they like them so much? How could anyone be that sadistic?_ The American hardly had a single moment to think after that as a cluster of these razor sharp weapons were sent his way.

        “Random saving explosion!” he yelled in a panic as he clumsily let out a burst of energy. Sure enough, the knives did explode. They exploded and so did one of Canada’s priceless autographed photos that had perviously called the nation’s wall home and hung peacefully on its hook. “Whoops, didn’t mean to do that,” Alfred winced as a scorch mark replaced the beloved object. “Well, at least I’m alive. That’s got to count for something.”

        “Not for long!” came a loud shout from right behind America. This time he was too late to react as he felt the sting of yet another blow to his head. Shrieks could be heard from the frightened crowd as the wooden bat, fit with crooked nails, crash-landed on Alfred’s head. For the second time that day, an object had collided with that area, causing the American to crumple to the ground. It was getting to be too much for him. There was just too more gore, too much fear, and too much suffering as he tentatively brushed a hand over his scalp. The searing pain and disorientation he got from the touch alerted him automatically that something probably wasn’t so right with his head. _Great a concussion,_ America complained inwardly to himself. _That’s going to take a bunch of magical energy to fix that I don’t have the ability to spend right now._

        “You’ve been running for years haven’t you?” his evil clone murmured sadistically as he thankfully took the time to admire his now more dented, metal nails rather than hit America again. “You’ve never been able to defeat us though even with that probably stolen wand of yours. Do you know why? It’s because you’re weak. You’re weak, and you just continue to run around in circles, chasing your own tail. I say let’s get this over with and end it already. I’ve had enough of this.” He said his words so plainly as though ending America’s life was just another day at the job, as though murdering someone was as easy as squishing an ant.

        It was then that Allen raised his bat again. He raised it for what he thought was going to be the final blow. One more rough hit to the head, and he would cause enough brain damage for sure. America knew that too as heard the other’s movements from behind, terror coursing through him like an ocean wave. _He’s going to get me,_ Alfred couldn’t help but think in that moment. _He’s going to get me, and then I’ll be done for. After all, it’s just like he said, I’ve been chasing my own tail. How many identities have I gone though? How many places have I hidden myself away in? How many times have I had to teleport myself away from these guys? They always find a way to find me again don’t they? They always return no matter how hard I try and no matter how many steps I manage to get ahead of them. Maybe this is the end..._

        “Ahh!” came a rather loud scream from behind him as Alfred twisted his head around to see a rather familiar face. It was Canada. It was his brother sobbing loudly and screaming at the sight occurring in front of him. It was him desperately crying as he realized that someone, Alfred, was about to be killed right in front of his very eyes. It was him screaming in complete fear and terror as France ran to his side, hastily scooping him up in a sheltering hug. _What a terrible thing to have happen on your birthday,_ America pondered to himself in the eye of the storm. _After all, seeing a nation die in front of you isn’t exactly number one birthday present material. I...I would be dying without telling him who I really am wouldn’t I? America truly would be dead, and he wouldn’t be able to tell. No, I can’t do that to him. I just can’t! I want to see the look on his face when I tell him I’m alive. I have to stay alive!_

        It was at that thought that Allen began to execute his final blow, and America had his last few seconds to act. If he was going to live through this, he had to come up with a plan, and he had to come up with it fast. _I need to do something surprising,_ Alfred decided in that spare moment. _Something they haven’t seen from me, something that will confuse him long enough for me to act. Well, magic clearly has never worked in my favor...of course!_ As the bat flew down towards his scalp, America showed him the one secret weapon he had concealed from those monsters all those years. The one talent he had always possessed, his strength. In one fluid motion, he simply picked up the other like a ragdoll, sending him hurling towards the back wall. He hit said wall with a thud, and the force was so great, that it even made a dent in the surface as though a meteorite had struck the building.

        “What?!” his double could only manage to wonder in awe as him and the others were completely overcome with surprise at the super strength found in the American’s seemingly geeky body. Everything had worked out perfectly. Well, except for the damage to the wall, but America didn’t care about that detail at all at that point. With his head messed up, vision wonky, and right hand worse for ware, he readied his final blow as he felt the energy rush through him. It was as though he was tapping into a reserve he didn’t know he had. It filled him like a magic potion, seeping into every last bit of his body as he let the energy find its way into the star of the wand.

        “Leave us alone!” Alfred cried as he conjured up a portal despite his injuries. The killers watched on, with wide eyes, as a bright, vibrant light filled the room like a miniature sun, and then...and then they were gone. As simply as that, the monsters disappeared from view in the blink of an eye. The only evidence that hinted of their presence at all was the tattered photograph, the dent in the wall that his stunt double had collided into, and a few bits of wood, metal, and blood scattered around. _Wait a minute,_ America thought to himself as he eyed something peculiar amongst the debris. _What’s this doing here?_ Right where evil France had been standing, his wand lay flat on the floor. It just sat there like some sort of jacket in a school lost in found, as though no one wondered about its existence.

        “Strange,” America murmured to himself as he stowed his own weapon away and gingerly picked up the new one. “Why in the world would he forget about something as powerful as a wand? That portal I made did come up quickly...but no he would have kept a better eye on this! It makes no sense.” He fingered the wand as though it was filled with booby traps, ready to jump back if the thing decided to go off like a ticking time bomb. But it didn’t. No, it just remained in his fingers as though it was an ordinary pencil. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to hold onto this,” Alfred noted quietly as he stuffed the item into his shirt right next to his own. “We can’t have it fall into the wrong hands...again.”

        With that, he turned his attention towards an incredibly petrified, bewildered, and utterly confused crowd of nations that just blinked at him through the magical barrier. If America thought his conversation with Canada in front of that audience was terrible, this was much, much worse. He wanted to crawl into a hole in the ground and stay there for the rest of his life, never to emerge again into society. Yet, he ignored that urge as he slowly but surely made his way over to the energy wall, feeling much like a child being sent to the principal’s office. With one wand and one tiny flick of the wrist, the energy field dissolved before his eyes, and now there was nothing between him and the sea of awkwardness he knew he was about to fall into. Sure enough, Canada stepped forward to speak, and with one look at his livid face, America knew he was done for.

        “Who are you?” he questioned with a surprising snarl that made Alfred know all to well the utter betrayal he felt inside. “I went lenient on you last time you were acting peculiar, and now this! What even is your name?! It’s clearly not Alfred; that I know now. Heck, you’re probably not even Onj...whatever you call yourself! I trusted you; we trusted you. We let you into our family, and you brought these psychopaths into my house!”

        “I know this looks bad,” America hastily admitted before the complete misunderstanding spiraled out of control, “but I was just trying to protect all of you. I saved your lives. They were going to kill you!”

        “Saved our lives?!” his brother shouted back angrily, causing the American to crumple out of fear. “You were the one who almost got us killed. They know you after all don’t they? Plus, look at the damage you did to my house!”

        “I can fix it just let me...”

        “No, get away from us,” Canada growled firmly as Alfred felt all the hairs on the back of his neck prick up in terror. “Get away from us, and don’t let me see your face ever again.” The warning brought America once again on the verge of tears as he stared back at the wrath of his twin. In all his life, he had never seen his brother so angry, not once, and he had been so close to finally getting to know him again, to finally getting his brother back. _Now he hates me,_ Alfred couldn’t help but scold himself. _He absolutely hates me..._ This time the tears did flow as he glanced at those amethyst eyes one last time. Perhaps it was the warning or the fear of those creatures attacking his twin again, but something within the American made him raise his wand that day one last time. With all the energy he had left within himself, America flicked his wrist once, and with that, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are wondering why Mrs. Higgins said “Long Live the Revolution!”, it’s because the Green Dragon Tavern happened to be a base of The Sons of Liberty, who played a role in the Revolution. While she is a madeup character, she still has the same revolutionary spirit as that group.


	7. America

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “See there you go again,” Francis just groaned in exasperation. “You don’t even know who you are!”
> 
> “But I know who Alfred is,” England stated urgently, not willing to back down anytime soon. This time his words affected Canada, and he dropped the scrap he was currently holding just to look back at those bushy eyebrows. It was as though, despite Arthur’s current mind state, this time Canada could tell he was serious. This time his words were no laughing matter. Matthew stepped away from the tattered picture and approached England, keeping his gaze locked on the Brit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done traveling yay, and I’m back with chapter seven! Don’t worry this is much better than that violence that occured last chapter. This also is one of my more favorite chapters (besides the next one) that I’ve planned out. Everything has been going terribly for Alfred lately, so needless to say, I shook things up a bit. Oh, also some small head cannons were used in the making of this chapter. Anyway, hopefully I can write up the next chapter pretty quickly, and until then, enjoy!

        “My poor picture,” Canada murmured softly as he knelt down on his wooden floor.

        Scraps of his precious photograph littered the ground. Whatever had previously been gorgeous trees and spirited wildlife was now nothing but fragments, and he picked up each one as though it was a newborn baby, holding them with expert care. Droplets of water hit his cheeks, but even he didn’t know the reason behind them. Perhaps it was the destruction of the photograph that bothered him, or at least, that’s what he told himself anyway. Yet, maybe it was fear that troubled him, the fear of those killers. Then there was the last possibility, the one he chose to conveniently ignore. It was the look on Alfred’s face that bothered him the most. _It seemed as though I was ripping his heart out of his chest,_ Canada pondered as he glanced at what probably was a moose, _but that can’t be right. No, this man is sinister. He brought those things into my house!_

        England was also bothered by the situation for multiple reasons. For one, his archenemy, Moriarty, was apparently still alive and most likely plotting against him. That was enough to bring the nation on the verge of a panic attack. Then there was Dr. Watson, or Alfred as he liked to call himself. Ever since he first laid eyes on that man, something about the micro-nation didn’t seem quite right. Then, as the battle progressed, he began to notice why. _First, he’s much taller than most of the micro-nations,_ England noted in his brain as the gears turned rapidly in his mind. _I mean yes there are some exceptions, but it’s definitely a rarity. Second, he’s much stronger than a micro-nation should be or even a nation for that matter! He lifted that bat fellow high in the air with no trouble at all. That’s most certainly not normal!_ Finally, there was one fact that irked him most of all. _Micro-nations can’t use magic; they’re not strong enough. That can only mean one thing..._

        “I don’t think you should have sent that man away,” England stated firmly, all of a sudden, much to Canada’s surprise. His words shocked the others too, and gasps could be heard from the still traumatized crowd as they questioned his sanity.

        “England,” Canada sighed audibly as he shook his head mournfully, “you don’t know what you’re saying. Alfred, whoever he is, almost got all of us killed. He is a safety hazard. Just look at what he did to my wall!” He fumed as he glanced at the obvious dent as though some sort of nasty prank had been pulled on him. Whispers of approval could be heard in the background, but England was not about to back down.

        “You shouldn’t have made him go,” he stated simply again, this time irritating a certain Frenchman.

        “Canada’s right,” France spoke sadly as he stared contemplatively at the dent. “I love you, my friend, but you’re not right in the head. I should never have let a stranger into our group. Look at all the damage he’s caused.”

        “When you have eliminated the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” England replied in his Sherlock Holmes’s fashion, this time though with a jarring amount of earnestly.

        “See there you go again,” Francis just groaned in exasperation. “You don’t even know who you are!”

        “But I know who Alfred is,” England stated urgently, not willing to back down anytime soon. This time his words affected Canada, and he dropped the scrap he was currently holding just to look back at those bushy eyebrows. It was as though, despite Arthur’s current mind state, this time Canada could tell he was serious. This time his words were no laughing matter. Matthew stepped away from the tattered picture and approached England, keeping his gaze locked on the Brit.

        “And who would that be?” he asked with more curiosity than annoyance now.

        “America.”

        America. That one name stirred Canada with an emotion too powerful to describe. It was as if all the negative things that he said about that stranger, all the skepticism he had previously felt was a dam, and now that name broke the structure, causing a ginormous flood of thoughts to rush into his mind. _America. He thinks Alfred is America?! Well, I thought that murderer was him, and look at how that turned out! No, he’s dead, definitely dead. Why else would he stay away all of these years? Plus, he looks nothing like him anyway._ However, one thing in the back of his mind continued to bother him relentlessly. _“I’m A...” isn’t that what he was about to say? I’m America. That could certainly fill in the blank now couldn’t it? I wonder is that what he was trying to tell me?_ Even France began to take Arthur seriously, and he reacted almost instantaneously.

        “That’s what I thought, _mon ami_!” Francis exclaimed as he stared wide-eyed at the Brit. “I thought he was _Amérique_ as soon as I met him. Well, I mean at first I sort of believed his micro-nation claim and his recent actions distressed me, but I did see that as well. He just seemed so happy to go to the party...” At that, France continued to wonder about this Alfred in his mind, highlighting any event that seemed even vaguely American.

        “No, Alfred is not America!” Canada shouted abruptly, clenching his hands into infuriated fists. “I believed that he was alive once today, and I’m not going to get tricked again! I know my brother, and he never would have put me in a dangerous situation, never!” Images of that deadly fire on that fateful day flickered their way into his mind. America had told him to run hadn’t he? He did anything to keep his brother alive. _And he died for it,_ Matthew noted in his brain, almost sobbing on the spot. _He died for me._

        “Canada, listen to me,” England spoke calmly as he tried to ease the anguish within the distressed Canadian. “Alfred is America; you have to look at the clues. First, he said to us that he was just born, and anyone can see he looks about your age. That’s a sign that he was lying right from the start. Second, I think we can all agree that he’s taller and stronger than a normal micronation. Third, he can do magic, Canada! Magic! Only countries are capable of handling that kind of power, and since he clearly isn’t one of those creatures that tried to kill us, that means he has to be a nation! There’s only one nation missing; there’s only one nation that doesn’t have a persona. That’s America.” Matthew just blinked at England as he processed the conclusion, too bewildered to find America for the second time that day.

        “No, no,” he murmured as he shook his head aimlessly from side to side. “That doesn’t make any sense. He looks nothing like him too!”

        “If he can do magic,” England noted thoughtfully, “he can probably make himself look like anyone.”

        “But why would he bring those things here? Why would he put me in danger?!”

        “I’m sure he didn’t do it intentionally,” England insisted as he stared directly into those amethyst eyes. “Look, Canada, don’t you find it odd that he lied to you about his identity in the first place? If he truly is your brother, he would have been overjoyed to see you, but he hid his identity. Plus, according to those creatures, he’s been hiding it for quite a long time. That can only mean one thing. He didn’t want to be found, and since he kept on lying, he probably didn’t want them to find you. He kept his identity a secret, so you would be safe.”

        The skepticism within Matthew began to fade away at those simple words. _He didn’t want them to find you. Alfred chose protecting me over revealing his_ _true nature? That does sounds like America. Is he...could he possibly...be alive? With that, he allowed England’s words to wash over himself once more. “When you have eliminated the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” that’s what he said right? The truth is, no matter how crazy it sounds and despite the fact that I thought he was dead, that man could possibly be my brother._

        “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go after him,” Canada noted softly as he held onto that one hope desperately. “I was going to ask him about America anyway earlier; we might as well try to get some information.” Then he grew somber after that as a deep fear crept its way through his mind, and he looked back at England in a panic. “Wait, Arthur, how are we supposed to find him anyway when he teleported away! We have no idea where he lives, and I...I just told him to stay away from me forever.” There was a tremor in his voice as he spoke that last part shakily. _What if we never find him ever again!_ _America, if this really is you, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry._ He lay his head in his hands, mumbling unintelligible things to himself as worry took over him.

        “Fear not, young one,” England replied with a wide grin, “Sherlock Holmes is on the case. We’ll find him in no time before he switches identities again.” For once, Canada didn’t seem to find his insanity and enthusiasm annoying. This time he could use someone like Sherlock to solve the mystery.

        “Plus, we know he’s from New York,” France added, hoping to ease the nation’s distress. “That’s a start. We can look at the area surrounding the grocery store where I found him.”

        “Ah, and that’s not all we know,” Arthur added with that sly grin as though he truly was the world’s greatest genius. “Did you see how he kept looking at his watch? He wanted to check the time yes, but why would he care about the time if he truly was reuniting with you? He wouldn’t care how long he was away if he was meeting his long lost brother! No, there was something else bothering him. Most likely he has a roommate. He never got a chance to tell them where he was going, and he kept looking to see how long he’d been away. Now, why would he need a roommate? They could be crashing at his house yes, but it’s more likely that they’re sharing an apartment. Plus, did you notice anything about his pockets? It was obvious that he kept his wallet in his right one as he kept fingering it just to see if it was there. That must mean he worried about pickpockets, so we know he’s in an apartment in an urban area, mostly likely New York, New York. I say we do a bit of research on the city, and see if the name Alfred pops up. He couldn’t have vanished that quickly with a roommate to worry about!”

        England puffed out his chest proudly as though he had just solved the Rosetta Stone. France and Canada, on the other hand, just blinked at each other in confusion. They had both known that Sherlock Homes was England’s current muse but to see him in action was another thing entirely. Sure Arthur acting like the famous detective wasn’t a big deal to everyone, but his advanced reasoning skills startled the crowd.

        “Let’s just go with it,” France whispered to Canada. “You never know. He might just be on to something. What else do we have?”

        “Alright, but when we find out he’s wrong about this, I’m blaming you,” Matthew replied, causing Francis to laugh a little.

        “But if I’m right, _mon cher_ ,” Francis replied, smiling from ear to ear, “you might just see your America again. Wouldn’t that be special?” Canada’s chest fluttered a bit in excitement at the sound of his brother’s name, but he quickly scolded himself. _Don’t hope for something that’s never going to happen. You’ve hoped to find him for centuries, and look where that’s gotten you! Plus, he could just still be some random new country that just happens to live in NYC! Nothing can be proven without facts._ So Matthew kept himself reserved despite the joyful glimmer flicking in his eyes.

        “Let’s wait for a bit though,” he murmured as he eyed his watch warily. “It’s way past midnight, and I have a feeling that we’re going to need as much sleep as we can possibly get. Plus, I think you’ve already driven your fill for today.” He said that last bit in France’s direction, and the nation just nodded knowingly in response. After all the nation had gone through that day with the long car ride and then the murderous creatures invading Canada’s house, he truly was tired and wanted nothing more than to collapse on the nearest bed.

        “Yes, I think retiring for the night is a good idea,” he yawned as he stared back at his two accomplices. “I’ll see you both in the morning, but for now, I’ll be upstairs, so I can be well rested for whatever we have to face next. Something tells me this isn’t going to be easy.” With that, the crowd of nations began to head back to their various hotels and B&Bs. Even England waved Canada farewell as he headed up to snag another guest bedroom (preferably the furthest away from France’s snoring), leaving the young country all alone to himself in his own comfy bed. He stared up at the ceiling contemplatively, too many thoughts buzzing around in his overactive mind to fall asleep. Finally, Canada just turned to Kumajirou with a certain sadness about him.

        “Hey, Kumajirou,” he wondered softly as he stared over at his faithful polar bear. “Do you think Alfred is America? I mean it could be true I guess. He does live in the States, but I haven’t seen America since we were kids. How am I supposed to know how he acts now, what he looks like, what he goes by...or if he’s even alive for that matter. I think what I’m saying is what do you think I should do?”

        “Who?” Kumajirou just replied plainly, inciting a chuckle from the Canadian.

        “Who indeed!” he laughed as thoughts of this mysterious stranger finally lulled him into a peaceful sleep. Whatever hesitation he felt now, whatever doubts that lurked in his mind would have to wait until the next day when he could solve the mystery once and for all.

* * *

Universe: Take Two  
Time: Why Aren’t You in Bed?  
Place: New York City

        It was raining when America appeared outside of his two bedroom apartment. The torrential downpour hid the onslaught of tears that flew down his cheeks as he recovered from his ordeal. The brother that he had lost years ago to a fire was now gone again, snatched away from his grasp as though he were nothing but a sheet of paper. _It’s the fact that he’s alive that makes it worse,_ America couldn’t help but think to himself. _If he was dead, I could just forget about him, but I can’t! I’ll have to live with myself knowing that I ruined everything. I destroyed our relationship._ More droplets streamed down his face now, mixing with the rain to create one giant puddle on the ground. It was as though the current weather was just as miserable as America was as water soaked every last bit of his clothing.

        The nation just sighed deeply in painful regret as he made up his mind. _I guess it’s better to be dry and angry with myself rather than wet. Let me go say hi to Tony._ Drowsily he knocked on the door almost expecting that the alien would never answer considering the current hour, and he would be stuck outside in the drenching rain all night long. Yet, he was pleasantly surprised to hear hurried footsteps making their way towards the front, and within seconds, the door swung wide open to reveal a familiar alien. Despite his limited facial features, it was easy to tell that Tony was worried sick. His large, red eyes scanned the American over frantically as relief slowly but surely seeped into him, and he eased his tight grip on the door handle.

        “America, you’re home far too late don’t you think?” the alien questioned scoldingly as he beckoned the shivering nation inside. “What were you doing? What were you thinking?! Why didn’t you call me at all or text me back for that matter? I tried to contact you multiple times, and you never responded. Ah, and you’re covered in water! How long have you been standing outside in this downpour? You know what? I’m just going to fetch you a towel.” With that, the little gray figure rushed off and returned shortly with said plain, creamy towel and threw it at the trembling nation. America tried to thank him, he really did, but his teeth were chattering far too much. Plus, his mind was far too busy dealing with the shock of his previous experiences to concentrate his attention on Tony.

        “I...didn’t...get the milk,” he managed to finally get out through chattering teeth once he at last got his bearings. “Sorry about that. I had it and bought it, but it’s...um not with me.” Tony just blinked at the explanation as though he wanted to ask a thousand more questions, but he decided against it, shaking his head from side to side gently.

        “It’s fine. You can just create some with magic anyway can’t you?” he replied with a hint of sadness in his voice. “It doesn’t taste as great, but we’ll just have to deal. You just dry yourself, and I’ll go make you some decaf.” America just sighed in relief that Tony didn’t ask any more questions as he snuggled deeper into the fluffy cloth, allowing it to hide away all of his sorrow. Moments later, he gratefully accepted the mug of coffee the alien handed over to him. His fingers wrapped around the warm pottery, soaking up as much of the heat as he possibly could as he took in slow but steady sips of the cozy drink.

        “Alright now speak,” Tony ordered firmly as soon as Alfred had finished his mug. “Where were you?” He was not angry per say, more concerned beyond belief as he gazed fiercely at the other. America just cringed under those ruby eyes, knowing all too well that there was no where for him to hide. Tony was going to get his information wether he wanted to tell him anything or not. He always had a way of making the American feel as though he was under a microscope.

        “I was at a party,” he mumbled under his breath, immediately inciting the wrath of one infuriated alien.

        “You were at a party!” Tony cried in fury as those ruby eyes appeared as though they were on fire. “I was worried sick all night long until whatever time it currently is right now, and you were out partying! Did you even care about me...”

        “It was for my brother,” America whispered back softly as the tears that had been dried away now reappeared. “I hadn’t seen him in years...I thought he was dead, and now he hates me...I’ll...I’ll never be able to see him again.” It was then that he broke down, hiding his soaked face in his shaking hands. He was so upset that he didn’t even notice Tony’s anger dissolve away as he took in the new information. His eyes automatically softened as pity for his trembling friend flooded his heart, and he approached the other cautiously. Ever so carefully, the alien embraced the wailing nation in a comforting hug. He never even asked Alfred about this mysterious brother had heard nothing about. No, he asked no more questions as he waited for the sobbing nation to calm himself down, patting him ever so gently on the back. Tony didn’t even let go when America stuck his wet face against the alien’s shoulder, and he continued to squeeze the brunette lightly.

        “Sh, it’s alright,” Tony said gently as he lightly massaged the country’s back. “I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding. You can talk to him again once you both feel a little better. It’s not the end of the word! If you truly both care for each other this deeply, then you’ll care enough to forgive each other.”

        “No, no,” America just muttered unintelligibly in response. “You don’t understand. He loathes me now...Anyway you shouldn’t worry about me so much. I’m okay. I just need to calm down a bit.”

        “Are you really okay,” Tony grunted in response, “because you sure don’t seem like it?”

        For the second time that day, America felt a searing pain hit his head like a wrecking ball. Except this time, instead of a migraine, he felt as though his whole head was being stabbed with a million knives. He yelped in pain as he clutched it desperately, screams seeping their way out of his lips. They were screams of bloody murder this time around as though his heart was being torn out of his chest as he crumpled down to the ground in a heap. He continued to thrash widely as the alien just struggled to figure out what in the world was going on. Again nausea washed over the terrified nation. Again the world around him abruptly began to fade out of existence completely.

* * *

        Visions passed before Alfred’s eyes for the second time that day. He saw himself stirring Froot Loops mindlessly in a bowl as Tony stared at him. He saw Tony mouthing words in concern as he shrugged off the alien’s worries. He saw himself slamming his fist down on the table when it finally became too much, when the alien’s words hit too close to home. America watched as the Froot Loops flew across the table, creating a terrible mess. He watched as those big, red eyes were flooded with terror, and he watched himself cringe in sheer regret. He could feel the pain the America in his vision was feeling. There was hurt, frustration, and fear trapped in his self’s fluttering heart as he rushed from the table, too absolutely terrified to look back at his shocked friend. Then, once again, he saw nothing as the world dissolved away...

* * *

        “Alfred!” screamed a certain gray alien as he shook his lying friend desperately. “What happened? Alfred!”

        America blinked sleepily as he gazed up at two red orbs dancing before his eyes. He groaned loudly as they made his already throbbing head dizzy beyond belief, and he held it tenderly as he struggled to ease he body into a seated position. It took him a while before he finally caught his bearings and realized that Tony was the one who was sighing in relief next to him. _Where...where am I?_ he wondered soundlessly to himself. _Why am I on the floor? That doesn’t seem like a very smart place to be. Ugh, and what time is it?! I feel like my eyes are going to glue shut and remain that way forever. I just want to sleep..._

        “Alfred you’re okay!” Tony spoke happily as he ran his fingers through America’s sweaty bangs. “You had me scared for a bit. I was seconds away from calling an ambulance to send you to the nearest hospital.” _What send me to the hospital?_ Alfred pondered in his mind as he stared at the wooden floor below him. _Why would I need to go there? More importantly, why do I feel like this has happened before?_ That’s when his memory hit him like a car careening around a corner from out of no where.

        “Where’s Arthur?” America cried desperately as images of Canada’s party flickered their way across his mind. “I was so close to finding him! Also, where’s Mattie?! He was just here a couple seconds ago. Where did he go? Wait and why am I no longer at his house? Where...am I? Who’s apartment is this?!” Tony leaned back a bit in bewilderment as his close friend appeared to be going completely insane right before his eyes.

        “Look, Alfred,” the alien said calmly as he rubbed circle’s into the other’s back comfortingly. “I know you’ve had a rough day, but please calm down. I have no idea what you’re talking about or who you’re talking about for that matter! And this is your apartment. Don’t you remember that? We share it together. You’re not having memory loss problems are you? If so, I can schedule an appointment with your doctor.”

        “My apartment?” America just wondered as he stared around at the creamy walls covered in old photographs of distant friends. “This isn’t where I live!” Alfred was taken a back by the way Tony was acting. It was as though the alien had just seen the American experience a heart attack before his eyes and was now encased in fear. Plus, the more he eyed his surroundings, the more confusion leaked its way into his brain as he struggled to realize just where in space and time he was.

        “Okay look,” the American finally just stated as he turned to his trusted friend. “I don’t know what’s going on, but promise me one thing, Tony, find Arthur. Can you do that for me?” His voice was so desperate sounding the alien felt as though he was compelled to say yes, too fearful of the current state of his clearly mentally unstable friend.

        “Again don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony replied as he gazed back at the other, “but if you really need him for something, I’ll try to find him.”

        “Thank you,” America just whispered in return as the blackness once again enveloped himself as relief washed all over his body. “Thank you...”

* * *

        The American awoke to a strange vibrating sensation occurring beneath him and a screaming that was starting to make his ears feel as though they were going to bleed from the sheer volume. He noticed at once that the screams were coming from a rather shocked Tony as he gripped a leg of their kitchen table for dear life. The reason behind his screaming and that strange vibration, on the other hand, was far harder for him to figure out. Maybe it was his still throbbing head that confused him or perhaps the fact that he felt as though he had just walked into a thousand degree sauna. Whatever the reason, he knew he had one emotion that he could possibly feel at that point, panic. He panicked as the ground continued to tremble beneath himself for what seemed liked no reason at all. The coffee mug that he had been holding flew across the room, papers fluttered down from the table Tony was holding, furniture shook, and the world itself felt as though it was bursting at the seems.

        “Earthquake!” Tony shouted at the top of his lungs as the once mysterious shaking abruptly stopped just as quickly as it had started. “Huh, it ended. Well, that was weird. Hope it doesn’t happen again...Anyway don’t worry, Alfred. We’ll find this Arthur you are referring to!”

        “Who?” America blinked, completely rattled and confused beyond belief as he just stared at the alien wide-eyed. _An earthquake just happened, and all he cares about is some person I wanted to find! What on Earth is he talking about?_

        “Who?!” Tony replied in surprise as he took in the sight of his completely stunned friend. “You were just begging me to take you to him earlier! I think I was right before. Something is happening with your memory, and is that sweat on your forehead?” The alien let go of his death grip on the table leg to crawl over to his roommate and place a gentle hand on the other’s forehead. Immediately, once his fingers contacted his friend’s skin, he jerked them back as if he had just touched a hot iron.

        “Alfred, you’re burning up! No wonder you’re having issues with your brain. You’re clearly sick! Come on let’s get you to bed before your health gets worse. I’ll give you some medicine in the morning. Right now you need rest!” America wanted to protest. He wanted to explain to the alien that the creatures were up and running once more. He wanted to suggest that they bolt from the apartment and never come back. He wanted to find a new identity, a new home, and a new start, but atlas, he was dragged up the stairs. Whatever complaints he wanted to make, whatever dire warnings he wanted to give to the alien, would have to wait until the morning. Right now his eyes were closing in a heavy sleep that he couldn’t seem to shake, and this time, they didn’t open for quite a long time when the sun once again rose high in the sky.

* * *

Time: 9:28 am

        “Are you sure we’re at the right place, England?” Canada asked with insecurity lacing his voice as they approached the unfamiliar brick building complex. “Cause if you’re wrong about this, I swear I’ll...”

        “Not to worry, Lestrade,” England just replied with a proud laugh. “I’m Sherlock Holmes. I’m always right!” Canada just groaned in response as he mumbled something unintelligible about the other’s mental health.

        “Hey, why does he get to be Inspector Lestrade?” France cried with a small hint of jealousy. “And why don’t I have a character? What have I done to offend you so badly?!”

        “Come on, France,” Canada scolded. “Let’s not argue over who gets Lestrade and who is important enough to get a character, and let’s just get this over with.”

        “He’s right,” England hummed giddily. “Let’s not argue, annoying older brother Mycroft. We have a case to solve!” Before France was able to complain about the name he finally did receive, England reached out to ring the doorbell. It sounded rather peacefully, a silent _ding dong_ , in the dead silence that had flooded over the anxious nations. It was the calm before the storm. It was the pleasant ringing before they found out once and for all if England’s wayward hunch was right after all. Their breaths hitched in their throats as they heard the light sound of hurried footsteps approaching the door, and their hearts seemed to skip a beat as the wooden panel ever so gently swung open wide. None of them were prepared for the sight they met, standing expectantly in the doorway.

        An alien stood on the threshold with scarlet eyes as big as saucers and pale gray skin covering himself from head to toe. That’s right an actual, real life alien with two slits for nostrils and no mouth on his oval head stood there. To say that the trio of nations was shocked was a complete and utter understatement as they stood gaping at the creature. Tony too just blinked back at the others in complete surprise, bewildered to see actual visitors on his doorstep. The counties never said anything to each other, but with one glance back and forth, they all came to the same conclusion. If anyone was crazy enough to have an alien as a roommate, it was a country. They had come to the right place. Yet, even with that acknowledgement, it was a while before anyone said anything at all.

        “Hello, alien,” Canada finally spoke after the silence became far too uncomfortable for his liking. “We just want to talk to Alfred. Is he home right now?” Instead of a simple yes or no answer, the alien replied with another question.

        “Is one of you, Arthur?” the alien asked in his eerie, high pitched voice. That was all he did, ask a question, but he almost gave the others simultaneous heart attacks. It was just so weird for them to see a creature talking without a mouth, and it scared all of them senseless. Finally, Francis managed to calm himself down enough to respond. After all, with all of England’s dark magic days, he was quite experienced with the weird.

        “Yes,” France replied despite his trembling frame, “that would be mister eyebrows over here.” England looked as though he was about to scream at the other for that eyebrow comment, but before he got the chance, the alien beckoned the nations inside the apartment. With one more quick stare at each other to see if they were truly ready to go inside a stranger’s home with an alien no less, they followed the creature inside through the wooden door. As they entered the apartment, they took note of the creamy walls and photos of seemingly random people scattered about. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and eggs could be detected from the quaint kitchen, and the sound of running water could be heard from somewhere upstairs.

        “You can call me Tony,” the alien explained nonchalantly as he pointed towards the chairs aligned by the granite island, beckoning for the three to sit down. “Alfred’s upstairs. I told him to get some more rest because he’s terribly sick, but no, of course he doesn’t listen! He seems urgent this morning. Did...did anything terrible happen at this party last night he keeps talking about? When I found him yesterday, he was beyond spooked.” The three just gazed back and forth at each other knowingly. They all wondered what response they could possibly give the questioning alien. After all, they barely knew what happened themselves with those creatures and how they ended up at Canada’s party in the first place. How were they supposed to reply to a question like that? Luckily, it turned out they didn’t need to for a familiar face soon bounded down the stairs.

        “Morning, Tony,” Alfred spoke with clear exhaustion lacing all of his features. “How are you doing this fine...we have guests?” He squinted in complete shock at the nations who were nothing but fuzzy blobs of light tan and blond to him.

        “Yeah they arrived just now looking for you,” the alien replied as he greeted the brunette warmly. “One of them is that Arthur you were looking for. I found him for you.” He seemed rather proud of himself, but the American just blinked back at him in bewilderment.

        “What I don’t know of an Arthur,” he exclaimed in confusion as he blinked at the still fuzzy trio. “When did I ask you for him? Uh, you know what? I’m just going to go upstairs and grab my glasses. Be right back!” As he said those words, he headed towards the living room, much to the alien’s amusement.

        “The stairs are the other way.”

        “I knew that!”

        Alfred practically stumbled back up the stairs as he rushed back up the way he came. It was clear to the four of them that he was in a frantic mood that morning. _Clearly the events that occurred the other night are still bothering him majorly. He didn’t even remember his contacts,_ Canada wondered to himself, _and he’s as blind as I am! He must have been as messed up as I was by what happened with those killers. I did also...kind of kick him out. Well, I did kick him out. Is he still upset about that? I wouldn’t blame him. And what’s this about wanting Arthur? It’s...it’s just like at the party when he asked for England by his human name. He’s doing it again but why? What could he possibly need Arthur for?_

        “Sorry about Al,” Tony mumbled apologetically as he poured a cup of coffee for the Canadian. “He was so messed up last night, it’s not that surprising that he forgot about asking for you, Arthur. I’m sure it’s just that fever of his talking. He’ll be back to normal in no time.”

        “It’s alright,” Canada replied thoughtfully as he drummed his fingers on the top of the island. “He was asking for Arthur earlier actually and seemed pretty out of his mind. I thought maybe he cursed Alfred or something.” The Brit actually seemed offended by Canada’s remark, and he scoffed pretty loudly.

        “I didn’t curse Dr. Watson,” England retorted with clear hurt in his bitter tone. “Why would I ever do that? I just met the man yesterday.” Matthew outwardly groaned at those words as he took in Tony’s look of complete and absolute surprise.

        “Don’t mind him,” he apologized to the alien profusely. “He’s thinks he’s Sherlock Homes. He’s pretty insane.”

        “Well, I guess that makes two of them then,” Tony just replied simply as thoughts of Alfred seeped their way into his mind. He definitely was acting crazy with all those memory lapses, and the alien silently wondered wether or not he should take him to the hospital. Canada, on the other hand, wondered about something else entirely. After all, they had come to Alfred’s house for a reason, to figure out who this mysterious and possibly crazy stranger was once and for all. _Is he actually a micro-nation like he claimed he is, or has he been lying to us the whole entire time?_ Matthew was itching to know the truth, and it hurt him to know that somewhere upstairs was the answer. _Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt to ask the alien a few questions first,_ he noted in his brain. _Maybe he knows who this person really is._

        “So alien...um Tony,” Canada began slowly as he stared down at the granite below him. “When we met Alfred last night, he kept calling himself Onjlksta. Do you happen to know what that means? Is he like some micro-nation or something?” Tony almost choked on the coffee he was somehow drinking and stared back at the Canadian as though he too was insane. To him, Alfred was a human, not a micro-nation! _What in the world is he implying?_ Tony thought to himself in complete and utter confusion.

        “Yes, I do know what Onjlksta means,” Tony spoke slowly as though Canada was a ticking time bomb about to explode. “It’s the word for America in my language. Why...why would he call himself that?! It’s kind of a weird nickname don’t you think?” It was at that answer that Canada’s brain ceased to function as his mouth flew open like a trapdoor. It was as though his mind couldn’t process what he had just heard. It was just too weird to be true. _No, there’s no way this is happening! Alfred called himself America! Was he actually being slightly truthful with me this whole entire time?! Most importantly though...is England right?! Is he my brother?_ When his mind finally conjured up those thoughts, his body began to follow suit. His chest thumped audibly, his ears ringed, his breath hitched as though he had forgotten how to breathe. _England...he was right?_

        “Hey, sorry about that,” Alfred quickly apologized as he bounded down the steps like an overly caffeinated gazelle. “Stupid contacts and me forgetting to put them in! Anyway where were we? We have guests...” It was at that point that he noticed that a. there where three people sitting down at the island, b. one of those people was his brother who had previously tried to kick him out of his house in anger, and c. Canada looked as though he was having a panic attack and yet wanted to hug him for dear life all at the same time. Needless to say, the nation was surprised beyond belief as he stared, shellshocked at his twin seated before him. They remained there for a while, just staring at each other with Matthew eyeing him like a prized detective and Alfred trying desperately to figure out what was happening in his own kitchen. It was Canada who finally broke the silence.

        “America?” he questioned softly as he gazed upon the brunette in a completely new light. In the silence that followed, the nations would have been able to hear a pin drop. America heard his name. He heard it coming from his own brother’s mouth. He saw the hopeful smile that now laced his lips as those amethyst eyes of his twinkled like miniature stars. He saw all the happiness and relief and sadness and joy flood out of the country as teardrops fell from his eyes like a rainstorm. He saw his brother’s muscles twitch as though ready to run at him at any second and embrace him in one giant hug that could have lasted for centuries upon centuries. Alfred heard and saw all of this as his hands shook in bewilderment, and he gradually stepped backwards, back up the stairs he had come from, back away from his precious twin with his mouth open and eyes as wide as saucers. In mere seconds, America had vanished from sight.

 


	8. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “America?” his twin asked firmly, jerking Alfred away from his nice, relaxing sleep. “You once said for me to trust you even though I was completely confused out of my mind. Well, now you’ve got to do the same for me. Do you trust me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big news! I changed my username to have two ls instead of one. Yeah I know not really big news at all. In other more interesting news, here’s chapter eight. It was much longer than anticipated (almost two pages over), but hopefully it’s okay. I haven’t written fluff in a while, so it was a bit weird. I also wanted to fit more of the last scene into this chapter, but I ran out of room. So that’s going to be squeezed into chapter nine, and until then, here’s chapter eight! Also, sorry about weird made up logic in this one.

        Canada’s eyes were fixed on that stairwell. They weren’t blinking; they weren’t moving up and down. They were fixed right where Alfred had been only moments earlier. His heart sank and sank, deeper and deeper the longer he remained that way as he longed to hear the sound of footsteps once again, but there was only a silence, a silence that ate at him furiously. _Why did he run away?_ Canada could only think again and again in his mind. _Why did he react like that? He doesn’t hate me does he? What if he’s afraid that I’ll yell at him again?! Maybe he’s done with me forever...No, that can’t be right! He loves me dearly. I know it! I know it..._ Whimpers began to sift their way out of his mouth now as he stared upwards, the tears on his face only quickening with each passing moment.

        “Perhaps he just needs some time to himself,” he thought he heard France whisper comfortingly. “You did just kind of shock him to death. Let’s just give him some space and see what happens.”

        Canada nodded at his words, but his body paid him no attention. He didn’t wait almost 408 years just to find his brother and have their relationship fall apart! There was still some part of him that itched to run up to his twin, to find him and never let him go, and he didn’t care what the other nations would say. Matthew was almost about to do just that when he heard the distant sound of a door creaking open ever so gently. That small noise was almost too much for the young Canadian to handle as he allowed himself a necessary blink, too hyped up on adrenaline to even focus. Every footfall now, every squeak of the floorboards sent his heart pounding and pounding as though it was going to collapse in his chest.

        It seemed like eternity to Canada before he once again caught sight of the brunette easing his way down the stairs. Slowly but surely, Alfred descended to his brother’s level as though he was making his way through a minefield, avoiding fake explosions at every step. Yet, to the Canadian, he felt as though America hit each and every one of those mines, each impacting his heart bit by bit as he forgot how to breath. It didn’t help that Alfred kept his eyes averted from his twin, too fixed on an object laying peacefully in his hands. Canada’s attention too soon focused there as he noticed the small box the other was carrying. It was chestnut in color with golden vines inlaid across the top as though it was from some sort of occult shop. The lock on it too was peculiar with no hole to put the key in. Needless to say, it sent shivers down his spine yet not in a bad way. He just recognized the great power held within it.

        “You...you figured it out,” Alfred murmured softly as he at last stared straight up at Matthew with soaked cheeks and a voice so fragile it was as if it was going to break apart at any second. He wasn’t sad though, just so overly happy that he had lost complete control over his emotions. So since his mind ceased working, his body reacted as he ever so gently reached out his hand with the box in Canada’s direction. “Here open...open it,” he began again, practically stammering with nerves as his brother’s fingertips brushed his and took the object from him. To Canada, it was as though he had been given a precious egg, and he held it with care as his mind struggled to understand how in the world to open it. _Is there like a secret button I should know about or something? Maybe if I tap the lid a certain way, it will crack open?_

        “Oh whoops, sorry about that,” Alfred apologized hastily as he pulled out his wand and taped the lock lightly. “I forgot I sealed it with magic. Now...um you can open it.” His face turned as red one of those tomatoes Spain likes so much as the box snapped open with a click, much to Canada’s surprise. The American fidgeted with his hands in anxiety as he eyed Matthew’s face warily, almost jumping in shock when he heard the loud gasp that came from the other’s lips. And that’s when his brother began to sob uncontrollably as he drew the priceless object out from within. From his shaking fingertips, hung a jasper arrowhead from a thin, leather strap, and engraved in the tan stone was an eagle with its wings pointed straight up at the sky.

        “Are you alright?” Alfred asked in concern as Matthew began to sway from side to side as though he was going to faint on the spot. “Oh, no I made you cry! Stop crying. What did I do? How may I help you? What do you need? I...I’ll do anything...”

        “America!” his brother cried abruptly through the tears as he dropped the box to leap up and embrace the other in one giant hug, the doll-like necklace still clinging from one hand. Matthew gripped the brunette desperately as though he was some life raft about to float away, burying his tear-stained face in his twin’s shoulder. “America...” he spoke again albeit a bit muffled as he snuggled deeper into his warm sweatshirt.

        “Canada,” Alfred murmured in complete and utter happiness as he at last returned the hug, arms wrapping around his brother to draw him closer. All that emotion he had bottled up since the first time he saw Canada’s face at the party now whooshed out of him as he stuck his now weeping face in the crook of his brother’s neck. A thin smile soon flicked its way up his lips as his nose took in the familiar sweet scent of maple from Matthew’s skin. He relished in that smell, relished in the peace that one simple hug could give him. His own arms pulled the other in closer and closer, not wanting this moment to be torn away from him.

        “Um, America?” Canada wheezed from somewhere within the embrace. “I can’t...ah breathe. Would you stop...hugging so tightly?”

        “Sorry, sorry,” Alfred apologized profusely as his blush deepened in color. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was pretty unwilling to let the other go. Yet, he relaxed his grip, not wanting to injure the person he treasured the most. Ever so slowly, they unwound themselves as they gazed longingly into each other’s eyes too scared that with one glance away, the other would disappear from their sight forever. So intense was that single moment that it was a long time before one of them spoke again. This time around though it was Canada that had something to show the other.

        “I might have upgraded a bit,” Matthew explained sheepishly as he pulled his own arrowhead out from where he always hid it: beneath his shirt, close to his heart. “I didn’t do much though. I just changed the leather strap a bit. The other one was getting way too small for my liking.” Canada ever so carefully slipped the object off of his neck and placed it before America just like he had done for him what felt like eons ago. As if handling a delicate butterfly, Alfred took the arrowhead from his brother’s hands, marveling at the miniature carving of a maple leaf etched on its surface. It seemed like only yesterday he had crafted that design for his tiny sibling.

        “You kept yours too,” Alfred whispered as they gently swapped arrowheads back. When his own eagle was once more in his hands, he touched his wand to the leather, allowing it to grow, so he too could hang the carved stone from his neck.

        “Yeah I couldn’t bare to leave it,” Canada chuckled softly as he fingered the arrowhead absentmindedly. “It was the only thing I had from you.”

        “And I kept mine hidden so no one could take it from me,” America replied as he remembered all too well that day he had created that tiny box to stow away the precious item. Then he jerked his head abruptly back up towards his twin as though a dart had pierced his neck. “I...I thought you were dead too. Well, I did hope that you were alive, but I saw blood and I couldn’t help but think that...” His voice broke again, so that he couldn’t even finish his sentence as he buried his head in his trembling hands.

        “Sh, it’s okay now,” Canada hushed as America stared back up at him, captivated by just the sound of his voice. “We both thought that, but we’re alright now. I’m alive, and you’re alive. Everything is going to be fine.” Alfred almost choked on his sobs as he struggled to control himself, nodding slowly at his brother’s words. He quickly grew concerned though when a sense of fury filled his twin as suddenly he saw his brother’s hand swing towards his face and felt a rather painful sting on one of his checks.

        “But that’s for telling me to run away, idiot!” Canada cried with a scoff after slapping his twin as America reached up to touch the spot of impact, fingering his cheek gingerly. “If you ever, ever do that to me again, I will kill you for real! You hear that?! Don’t ever leave me again...” His angry tone wore off at the end as he realized he couldn’t stay mad at the other for long and just went back to crying. Stunned, America grasped Canada’s fingers in his own, staring him dead in the eye as though he was about to make some unbreakable vow.

        “I promise,” he whispered quietly as a small smile eased its way onto his lips, “as long as you don’t ever leave me.”

        “I won’t,” Canada giggled lightly in reply. “You can be sure of that.” He beamed at the other brightly as his hands squeezed his brother back. It was at that squeeze that a certain twinkle soon flooded America’s eyes, automatically drawing suspicion from his twin. “Oh, no you are not making your idea face right now! Please tell me you’re not going to say or do something stupid. If you do, I will...”

        “No, no you’ll like this,” Alfred just chuckled as he unraveled his fingers from his brother’s. Matthew watched on curiously as he stepped excruciatingly further and further away until he was at a suitable distance, and then he drew his wand out from its hiding place with a flourish. His face then soon morphed with seriousness as his brain concentrated on lifting his wand up in the air, his mouth forming a name he knew all too well.

        “The United States of America!” he cried as he swooshed his wand in the air emphatically. A bright, blue light erupted from the magical stick, filling the room with a brightness so intense Canada was forced to look away. It was as though the sun itself was present in the room, quickly blinding the poor nation to death. Fortunately, the light died away as quickly as it had started, and pretty soon he was able to look back.

        The Canadian’s jaw dropped as he took in the sight of his true brother before him. Sure it was one thing to realize America was still alive, but to see him, the _real_ him before his own eyes was a different story entirely. _He still has Nantucket!_ he cried to himself in glee as he stared at that familiar cowlick. This was the America he remembered with his sandy-blond hair, thin eyebrows, and bright blue eyes like a peaceful sky with no cloud to be seen. Those same stars were even twinkling within them just like on the day Matthew lost him. The only thing that was different this time about his twin was the way he drew into himself like a turtle into its shell. He squirmed under Canada’s gaze, now unable to hide his real self from beneath a disguise.

        “How do I look?” he asked insecurely as he stared down shyly at the ground.

        “Like my brother,” Canada laughed in reply as he tackled America in another hug. This time around though the American was careful not to squeeze his brother to death. In fact, he just let his brother do all the squeezing as he admired the way Canada’s hair curled ever so slightly. It seemed to America that he was admiring simple things like that for the first time, like he had never _really_ seen his brother at all. Now that he was in his arms again he could hear his peculiar, bubbly laugh peaking its way out between tears, he could see the slight variation in Canada’s hair color from his own, he could feel the other’s heart beating as fast as his, he could hear the sound of muffled giggling coming from close by... _wait a minute._

        “Um, Canada?” America whispered tentatively as he tapped his brother lightly on the shoulder.

        “What is it?” he asked as he half-paid attention to what he was saying, too entranced by the other’s presence to care about anything else.

        “I...I think we’re being watched.”

        “Eh?”

        Canada begrudgingly twisted his head around from within America’s shoulder to glare in the direction of where the giggles were coming from. Ever so slowly, his eyes widened in surprise as he noticed what America had only seconds earlier. From behind the granite countertop, France was grinning giddily as he held up his phone. He was having a hard time keeping it steady he was so full of happiness, and his eyes watered the more he looked at the two brothers holding each other lightly. England too was snickering mischievously as he held up his own phone. There was sound coming from his though as if there was a whole entire concert happening from behind the metal device. The sight took Canada by surprise.

        “You were filming us?!” he cried in shock and slight embarrassment as he wiped some of the tears desperately from his cheeks.

        “ _Oui_ , you two are just too precious,” Francis laughed joyfully as he and Arthur shared a knowing glance. “We couldn’t help but catch the moment on video. And England is recording everything live, so everyone else can see the love.” Then he leaned in closer to the island nation, so he could whisper in his ear. “Oh, and look can you believe it? They’re twins! Look at _les petits anges_!”

        _There are many terms of endearment in the French language. The one France just used to refer to Canada and America translates to “the little angels.” When speaking to a male, there’s also “mon chou” which directly translates to “my cabbage.” This may seem a bit weird at first, but the term actually comes from “chou à la crème,” a type of French pastry and not the green, leafy vegetable. On another note, when talking to a male friend, some use the term “mon gros” which means “my fat one.” This is actually a positive term, on the same level as common American words such as “dude” and “bro.”_

        “Wait you two knew who I was?!” Alfred exclaimed as the Frenchman and Englishman just nodded their heads simply, still smiling from ear to ear.

        “It wasn’t hard to put together the clues, _Onjlksta_ ,” Sherlock England just chuckled with extra emphasis on the nation’s previous cover name. America just flushed deeper in color as he glanced down at the ground nervously.

        “I think the better question to ask is why are you recording this?!” Canada grunted with a hint of fresh anger in his tone. “Can’t you tell we’re having a private moment here? We haven’t seen each other in 408 years, and you think it’s okay...”

        “Sh, calm down,” America hushed his irritated twin gently, the frustration immediately draining from his brother’s features. “Think about it this way. Now we’ll never forget the moment we found each other again.” Canada let out a small chuckle at that as he realized at once that he was right. There was no way he’d ever want to forget this single blip in time, and now he’d never have to. They’d have it within the depths of France’s phone to treasure for years to come. _Plus, why should I care if England is streaming this?_ Canada scolded himself lightly. _This is the happiest day of my life!_ Yet, a tiny frown made its way up his face when he noticed something odd about the way America was acting. Alfred was burying his head in his shoulder not endearingly this time but to hide. _He’s trying to get away from the camera,_ Matthew realized with a start. _It’s like he’s not used to being seen by anyone._

        “Hey, America?” he questioned gently, catching the other’s gaze.

        “Yes?”

        “Are we really the first nations you’ve seen in four centuries?”

        “Um, yeah you are,” Alfred admitted sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve had some human friends though...Well, until like 1773 when those creatures came and started hurting and um trying to kill everyone I love...that’s when I gave up on friendship. Then I had to keep switching identities to get away from the monsters, so I never actually got attached to anyone.” Canada’s face blanched as pity for his twin grew more and more with each word that came out of his brother’s mouth. _Has he really been alone this whole entire time? No wonder he’s so uncomfortable around people. I would be too if those killers kept going after my loved ones._

        “That’s why I didn’t tell you who I was at first,” America continued to explain shyly as he tapped his foot on the ground in anxiety. “I...didn’t want them to hurt you too. Cause if they figure out who you are, I don’t know what I’d do...No, no they’ve probably already figured it out by now! What am I going to do?! What if they are coming after you too now. I...” It was at that point that Alfred rapidly started to panic, Canada realized Arthur’s hunch about America hiding his identity to protect him was right, and England and France decided it would be a good idea to stop the filming altogether.

        “It’s okay calm down,” Matthew murmured assuringly as he gazed directly into Alfred’s sky-blue eyes. “You’ve got us now. We’ll stop them together! Won’t that be great? They’ll never hurt anyone ever again! You hear that? You’re safe with us now.” America was still panicked, but for some reason, his brother did calm him down. It was just like when they were kids. Canada’s very presence made him feel automatically safe and secure.

        “I guess it is easier now with more people,” America admitted after a quick mental decision. “Plus, we’re one step ahead of them again. Well, hopefully anyway since I took the second wand. Oh, and Tony and I have been working on tracking them now too, so we can see what they’re up to! Huh, where is Tony anyway? He was just here a second ago.”

        “Oh, don’t mind me,” came a shout from nearby. “I’ve just been standing here wondering what the _heck_ is going on!!!”

        The two nations let their eyes wander around the room before they caught sight of a familiar figure leaning against the wall. Tony was terrified. Well, that’s one way to put it anyway. He was terrified and shocked and awed and bewildered and amazed and scared all at the same time. Sure he got used to Alfred’s magical wand after a while, but that...that shapeshifting into another person thing was a whole new level. It didn’t help, of course, that the two were suddenly now brothers and started calling each other by random country names. It was all just too weird for the poor alien as he stood there trembling before his once trustworthy roommate, watching in terror as the American stepped towards his friend as though he was tiptoeing over towards a wounded animal. 

        “Tony,” he spoke ever so slowly as he crouched before the other. “I know this must be terribly confusing for you...”

        “Terribly confusing? I don’t even know who you are anymore!”

        “I know you don’t,” America sighed as he struggled in vain to calm the other’s shouting, “but you have to believe me. I did this to protect you. If you knew who I actually was, then they could have seriously hurt or killed you! Look I know I was stupid. I know I should have told you everything, but I couldn’t loose you Tony. You’re...you’re the only friend I have. Please, please forgive me.”  
  
       It was then that the nation began to cry before the alien. This was an uglier cry than the tears he had shed for Canada. There was no happiness in these water droplets that fell to the floor, only pain as he remembered all his previous encounters with all the people he had come a little too close to. Tony was the only one he had ever befriended in such a long time, and the hurt on his face killed him more than anything. _Good going, America,_ he scolded himself harshly. _Now you messed up another relationship. Who else is going to be mentally damaged because of you?_ The alien must have noticed the truth in his words for his demeanor softened if only slightly in response.

        “Alright I’ll forgive you,” Tony complied begrudgingly, “but on two conditions. One you tell me everything, and two you never lie to me ever again. And if you fail to do both, I call all of the money in your bank account.”

        “Deal,” America replied readily as he held out his hand for the other to shake. He never even thought over the alien’s words for one second. He was prepared to do anything to regain his friend’s trust, and if Tony wanted him to be Santa Claus for the rest of his life, he was more than willing to do it. America’s spontaneity and earnestly shocked Tony, but it made him regain his faith in the other bit by bit as the words spilt out of Alfred’s mouth.

        He told Tony everything. He told him about personifications, about his twin, about that dangerous fire on the day that he and his brother ran for their lives. He told him about the branch that had snagged his foot. He explained in detail how the wand fell from the sky when he needed it the most. He narrated his confusion and grief over the supposed death of his twin. He described his first meeting with the look-alike killer and the horror he had seen on Mrs. Higgins’s face. He went over all the loss, all the pain he had seen in the past few centuries he had been alone. By the time he had gotten to the party, his voice was pretty worn-out and exhausted, but he managed to finish the full story for the alien to hear. It took a bit for Tony to contemplate the information until, all of a sudden, he decided to speak.

        “You have stars in your eyes,” he chuckled with a hint of curiosity. “You really are America aren’t you?”

        “I do?” America wondered out loud nervously. “I mean I am? Er I mean I guess I didn’t notice the stars. I haven’t exactly been well me in a while.” He blushed sheepishly at the clumsiness of his words before his face grew serious and he gazed directly at Tony. “So are we cool now, dude? I’d understand if this is all a bit too weird for you, and you don’t want to...”

        “No, no we’re cool,” Tony replied hastily. “As long as you remember your promise. No more secrets. Got it?”

        “No more secrets,” America agreed as he reached out to fist bump his roommate. He was a bit surprised though when, instead of the usual fist bump, Tony chose to cling onto him like some sort of giddy preschooler. He smiled slightly at the sight as he patted the alien’s back gently. Secretly he marveled at Tony’s trust in him. _He forgave me pretty quickly didn’t he? Even I wouldn’t trust me if I found out I was some completely different person. I am lucky to have him as a friend aren’t I?_ Canada, France, and England all stared fondly at the duo. Francis may or may not have also secretly snapped a photo of the moment that would soon surface in the years to come, but no one noticed as they watched the country and his alien.

        “Wait a minute!” England spat unexpectedly as rage filled the nation from head to toe for the American. “The wand fell out of the sky? That’s my wand isn’t it?! You’re the one that took it, you selfish git! And all this time I blamed France, but it was you. You little thief!”

        France tried to restrain the wrathful nation, but his efforts were hardly enough when Arthur looked ready to kill anyone in his path. He sprinted up to America and the alien like an olympian, and grabbed the star-shaped wand out of the pocket Alfred had stashed it in with fury. Well, he tried to grab the wand anyway. Before his fingers could snag ahold of the base, it slid out of his way like the wrong ends of two magnets trying to meet up with each other. He gaped a bit at the sight, clearly baffled, before he tried again to touch the stick in front of him. It was as though he was Tantalus struggling to reach for his beloved wand once again, but it was no use.

        _Tantalus is a figure in Ancient Greek mythology. He used to be welcomed by Zeus into Olympus until for some reason he decided to steal ambrosia and nectar from the gods. You think after one stupid move he’d realize he ought to change his ways, but believe it or not, he grew even more insane! In order to get the gods to forgive him, he sacrificed his own son as a meal for them to eat. Luckily for the son, he was revived, but Tantalus was forced into Tartarus, unable to reach out to eat fruit or bend down to drink for eternity. Another version of this involves Tantalus stealing a golden dog, but this story is way more interesting._

        “I swear it...it just fell out of the sky,” America stuttered with anxiety, a bit spooked by the sudden anger that came over the Brit. “I didn’t know it was yours. I just found it. I...I didn’t steal the wand from you.”

        “Oh no I believe you now,” he answered simply as though the previous few seconds never even happened. Alfred just blinked at the other in bewilderment as he shook his head wildly from side to side just to see if this was actually real. _He couldn’t have possibly changed his mind that quickly! Why is he so calm now? A few moments ago, he looked as though he wanted to put a bullet though my head._

         “Wait you’re not mad anymore? Just like that?!”

        “I believe you now,” England just repeated again plainly, a little sad though to no longer have control over his precious wand. “It might seem a bit fictional, but wands do like to bond to certain people. They’re quite temperamental that way. If it came to you in your time of need, then I guess I’ve lost my use for it. The wand is yours now. Use it wisely.” Then his gaze softened a bit as he stared into America’s sky-blue eyes. “Sorry for doubting you suddenly like that...it’s just I loved that wand dearly. Please do take good care of it.” Alfred blinked, a bit dazed by the explanation, but he felt the sincerity of England’s words deeply.

         “I will,” he replied firmly as he slipped the wand back into his pocket and patted the thing gently. He might not have known why, but he knew that he was given that wand for a reason. He knew now without a doubt that it was his job to protect it. _And I better not let it fall into the wrong hands,_ he thought to himself as a slight shiver ran down his spin. _I know what happens when one of those creatures gets ahold of a wand now don’t I? It won’t happen again. Not on my watch anyway._ He was still musing over the previous wand when Tony scooted over to him with a look that could only mean he was once again worried sick about his roommate.

        “Hey, Alfred?” Tony questioned abruptly as he reached up to feel the other’s forehead. “Didn’t you have a fever earlier?” America was just as confused as his friend as he touched his own skin in amazement.

        “Yeah and my head was killing me too,” he murmured softly as he quickly noticed the throbbing had ceased altogether. “Hm, it must be a country thing. I guess I heal faster than normal.” He shrugged the last part, clearly not interested in yet another issue he’d have to deal with. Those creatures were enough as it was.

        “Wait wasn’t your head killing you at my place too?” Canada noted through squinted eyes as he analyzed his twin with the same sort of worry. “That was right before you started asking for Arthur for some strange reason.”

        “Just like he asked me for him,” Tony added as he struggled to find the link in America’s odd behavior, “and then he passed out again.”

        “He passed out on us too! This is pretty strange isn’t it?”

        “You know I am sitting right here. I can hear what you’re saying!’  
  
        “Was there an earthquake afterwards?” Tony went on as he blatantly ignored his roommate in favor of figuring out the puzzle before them. “After America came back to his senses, there was a tremor that swept through the house, and then it stopped randomly. I know it might just be from a fault line, but with all the strange things that have happened to me today, I just thought maybe it meant something.”

        “An earthquake?” came as hesitant reply.

        The voice was so soft, that the others had trouble realizing where it came from, and when they did, they were in for a bit of a surprise. It was England’s mouth that had formed those words, and now it was left open as though he wanted to say something else. He was too terrified to speak though now. His face paled until it was as white as bone, and his whole body shook. It was as though the earthquake was still going on in that room, and he was struggling to remain upright. It seemed to the others that he had seen a ghost, yet that was too simple of an explanation. No, he was thinking of something far more worse and sinister; they could just feel it in the eerie silence that lingered.

        “England what’s bothering you?” Canada finally asked as the furry-browed nation shuddered violently before slowly shaking his head.

        “It’s probably nothing...” he answered at a volume that was barely even a whisper, “but if I’m right about it, we could all be in grave trouble. I suppose there’s only one way to know fully if my hunch is correct.” He then turned his attention towards America and Tony as the gears whirled around in his brain. “We know that the problem with Dr. Watson has to do with magic. Canada figured that out already even if he did blame me for it, but we know that I wasn’t the suspect since my wand was clearly in Dr. Watson’s hands the whole entire time. Now that leaves us quite the mystery doesn’t it? Who did cause this magical calamity that’s messing with his brain, and what is the curse that was used? The only way to gain clues in this situation is to recreate the crime scene.”

        “Um, who is Dr. Watson?” Tony muttered softly in America’s direction, even more baffled then when he had found out his best friend was a country.

        “I think he means me.”  
  
        “Hey, alien?” England questioned, all of a sudden, as he practically vaporized in front of the duo. “Words are pretty powerful when it comes to spells. Do you remember anything that you said to Dr. Watson, well America as you call him, on the night of July 1st?” It took Tony some time to realize that he was referring to the night before, and he rubbed his rather large head in thought as he desperately recalled everything that happened prior to the earthquake. He even paced for a bit before he halted his steps as the memory swept across him.

        “Alfred...um America was talking to me about the party,” Tony explained as he remembered the sorrow that had come across the soaking wet nation and the rain that poured down in buckets. “He was pretty devastated that Canada had kicked him out...” Said nation squirmed a bit at that as guilt overtook him with its firm grip. “I told him not to worry about it,” the alien went on, “but he didn’t seem convinced. He said he was fine, but I wasn’t buying it at all. I know when he lies to me, so I said ‘Are you really okay because you sure don’t seem like it?’ Then he started to...to do that.”

        The other nations turned their heads in the direction he was pointing as they soon noticed that America truly was not okay. Well, not okay was a bit of an understatement. He started screaming as though the evil France was back with those knives of his, stabbing him violently. He held his head in pure torment as he began to cry for who knows what number that day from the pain of it all. _Am I dying?_ Alfred wondered silently to himself. _It sure feels like it doesn’t it? What else could feel this drop dead terrible? It’s like my skull is being split in two._ Pretty soon though America didn’t even have the energy to create thoughts as his body collapsed on the ground in a heap, sweat pouring off of his forehead. His face was flushed too as if he was stuck in some sort of oven, and he thrashed on the ground in agony.

        “America!” was all the noise he heard before his consciousness faded away...

* * *

        The visions came to him once more. They were quicker this time around though as if there was somewhere he needed to be, as if someone was trying to tell him something. He saw his outburst at Tony and the scattered Froot Loops fade rapidly before his eyes as he was tugged, not unlike a feather floating in the wind, towards yet another fragment of an image. This time though the displays before him seemed to slow as if he was getting closer to finding answers. He saw himself underneath some sort of table. He watched on as he grabbed England’s wand and hastily ran away from the naïve Brit.

        Then he caught sight of the vortex once more, drawing everything around it into its chaos. Yet, his mind didn’t fade away into blackness this time, not yet anyway. No, this time around he could hear England shouting at him. The words were unclear as if he was speaking some sort of strange language that he couldn’t understand. He strained to hear his voice, he strained to comprehend what he could possibly be saying as the vortex wreaked its havoc. Like a camera focusing in on its subject, England’s voice slowly but surely came into focus.

        “You must find the other me, America!” England appeared to be shouting. “Find him, and he can figure out how to undo the curse. You can do this!” And with that, the blackness finally decided to fall upon him, and he was out like a light.

* * *

        “America are you okay? You passed out again! America can you hear me?”

        Alfred wanted to throttle whoever was next to him and shouting at the top of their lungs. He didn’t know what was going on, but if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that his head killed. The shouting, despite its earnestly, was making that sensation a thousand times worse, and he groaned in annoyance as he rubbed his temples tenderly. A sigh of relief could be heard somewhere next to him, and America scanned the room bleary-eyed before his gaze rested on his brother sitting right beside him on a kitchen floor. It didn’t take him long to realize that it was Canada who was the one shouting, and now that Alfred was more alert, his panic died down significantly. America’s though only heightened as he realized slowly but surely a. where he was and b. what in the world was going on.

        “Mattie!” he cried unexpectedly, automatically moaning in regret at the loud sound he created himself. “I found you again! Oh, and Arthur is here too thank goodness. I was worried I’d never find you two again. Thanks for finding him for me, Tony.” The other countries plus the alien just stood there, greatly baffled by the complete change in behavior.

        “Okay I get it now,” Sherlock England murmured not so under his breath, “whenever we say certain things, he momentarily turns into a bit of a nutter.” The others nodded their heads in agreement, clearly all perplexed by the current mental state of the American.

        “No, no I’m not crazy!” America exclaimed in exasperation. “We’re all cursed. We are all under a curse. I’m just the one who seems to know what’s going on!” He was out of breath after that he had shouted so loud out of frustration, and yet the others weren’t terrified. Their curiosity only grew now that they knew for a fact that they could get some straight answers for once.

        “Great you know about the curse!” France almost chuckled in relief. “Now you can finally tell us who caused it, _mon ami_.” At that, Alfred appeared to hesitate for a bit as his face blushed bright red, and he rubbed his neck worriedly.

        “Um, I did,” he answered with an emotion beyond guilt. “I caused the curse, but I didn’t mean for it to end this way!”

        “Wait you caused it?!” Canada questioned, completely confused. “America, why would you do such a thing? You don’t hurt people...you never...why?”

        “Okay please calm down,” Alfred hushed as he hastened to settle any doubt in his character. “I would love to tell you more, but I don’t have much time. So please listen to me. The thing is I accidentally might have created another universe that we are all currently stuck in. Now none of us remembered what happened because I designed it that way. I’m the only one who seems...ugh how do I put this...to have both of my consciousnesses trapped in this world. Whenever something or someone reminds me of a memory in the original universe, I begin to...well become me again. I remember everything that has happened, but then the...other me takes over again. And then I forget it all.”

        “This sounds like split personality disorder,” Tony whispered in Canada’s direction. “I told him to see a doctor before, but now I’m starting to think we should leave for one _right now_.”

        “No, no I think he’s telling the truth,” the Canadian whispered back as he analyzed his twin closely. “He knows our human names perfectly, so it’s not hard to believe that he’s met us all before in a different universe.” Tony hummed in agreement, but his mind continued to struggle to understand the craziness that was occurring around him.

        “America?” Sherlock England asked as though he truly was the great detective. “You just said we don’t have much time. “Much time before what exactly?”

        “Before our whole existence is torn apart,” Alfred answered with a bit of a shiver that was more from fear than the fever that still felt as though it was boiling his body alive. “Well, that’s what...uh other you said anyway, dude. He didn’t say how exactly that was going to happen though just that it was, and he seemed pretty darn scared. There is one good thing though. He said you would help, Artie! So what do we have to do?”

        America stared up at England as though he was Superman, ready to save the day. He thought that with one spell or wave of his wand that all of his problems would fall away just like that, and they’d be safe again. _Iggy told me to find him, and I did!_ he noted to himself inwardly. _Now this is going to be a cinch. I’ll he has to do is tell me what to do like he always does, and problem solved! It is a shame though that things won’t be the same. Canada seemed so happy here with everyone around him actually noticing him for once! It’s kind of sad that we have to destroy this curse isn’t it?_ Yet, he kept his mind on task as he focused on the Englishman in front of him...who seemed to be nervous?

        “Um I don’t actually know what to...America?!” Arthur began to admit before he ended up worried sick over the other nation’s wellbeing. You see Alfred, although ill, was fine when England started speaking, but in the middle of his confession, he began to hold his head in pain just like he did earlier. Then the American began whimpering like an injured kitten as he jerked about in agony before collapsing to the ground rather painfully, and with that, his consciousness was swept from him like a tide sweeping away a fresh layer of sand.

* * *

        “Is this the earthquake you were talking about?” came a scream from who knows where as America began to awaken from the darkness that had overtaken him. He was surprised to notice that indeed there was an earthquake happening again, and sounds of crashing mugs of coffee and slamming furniture could be heard all around.

        “No,” came a reply that he at once realized was from Tony. “This is ten times worse. Why does your planet have these fricken things?” Yet, before the alien could express his terror and complain more, the terrible vibrations that seemed as though they were going to sweep the house straight off of the ground halted, much to everyone’s relief. Well, except America’s that is; he was still panicking both inside and out.

        “Guys what’s going on?” he managed to muster out softly as he rubbed his aching head in clear discomfort. “And oh man was that my mug?! I always loved that mug...” Despite the misery his body was currently giving him, he gazed at his beloved coffee holder in despair, silently wondering how such a quake could cause so much destruction to his kitchen. _We never even get earthquakes near my apartment! What is happening?_

        “Oh, thank goodness, Dr. Watson, you’re awake,” England spoke far too emphatically for what just happened as he rushed over towards the American. “That bad news is we just had another terrible earthquake, while you were unconscious, that lasted far longer than that last one. So your theory that our whole existence is falling apart is most likely correct. The good news is I think I figured out how to undo your curse. Well, I know how to gain more clues to find out how to fix your problem anyway.” England’s enthusiasm and detective nature was truly not what America needed in that moment. _Great now he’s more off of his rocker! What is he talking about? A curse? What can that mean? Well, one thing’s for sure. The whole existence is falling apart thing is terrifying._

        “What problem?” Alfred just moaned in response as Canada eased his way over to his twin and laid a hand on his forehead.

        “You’re our America aren’t you?” Matthew just sighed as drew his fingers away from his brother’s sweaty forehead. “And you’re burning up again. This can’t be good. You’re just ending up more and more sick!”

        “What _our_ America?” Alfred groaned as his mind struggled to come up with some sort of logical explanation for all of this. “What are you talking...”

        “There’s no time!” England interrupted as though the fate of the universe rested on their shoulders...which it did. “I know a way to get more answers. Before your...original self said memories of the other universe kept drawing him out. That means, since you created the curse, your mind is the link between the two worlds. Now, if I can get inside your mind, I might just be able to contact the other England. I think that’s what he was trying to tell you earlier. You have to use your wand to get me into the other universe.” It was at that point that Alfred figured this was all some crazy dream, and he tried to fall asleep in Canada’s lap. After all, this nonsense was too crazy even for a man that thought he was Sherlock Holmes.

        “America?” his twin asked firmly, jerking Alfred away from his nice, relaxing sleep. “You once said for me to trust you even though I was completely confused out of my mind. Well, now you’ve got to do the same for me. Do you trust me?” America didn’t even hesitate. He nodded his head swiftly and surely as he stared straight into those amethyst eyes. “Good,” Canada spoke gently as he ruffled his twin’s sandy hair, “then go transport England to another universe.” While Alfred might not have known what exactly was going on, he did know that his brother wanted him to do this, and for him, he’d do anything. With the few bits of magical strength he had despite the fever, he raised his wand high above his head.

        “New York Los Angles Houston Miami Nashville Chicago Washington D.C.!” he shouted fervently as he turned his attention and wand right on the Brit. There was a bright, blinding flash of light that completely filled the room like an exploding lightbulb, and then...then the Englishman was gone. As simply as that, he faded out of existence and sight altogether as though he was never even born to begin with, and there was nothing but silence.


	9. Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “England, you’re back!” he exclaimed in surprise, happy to see that the country truly hadn’t disappeared from the face of the Earth. “I was almost worried you’d pop up centuries later. Glad to see you’re okay though. Learn anything useful?” Everyone turned their attention to the now slightly anxious Brit who squirmed under their hopeful stares, knowing fully well that they might hate him for the information he was about to share.
> 
> “Well...” he began with a nervous chuckle, “there’s good news, and there’s bad news.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished chapter nine, and thankfully it’s much shorter! The last chapter was too long I know, and I’ve been working to make them reasonable lengths. I’m also sorry if the more recent chapters are worse than the first few. Hopefully I can make this into a better story. Oh, also, because I’m paranoid about this, here’s a disclaimer: none of the Sherlock quotes/info I put into the Narrator’s bit is mine (although some of that info I knew beforehand). The only thing I own is this wacky story. Anyway, I hope it’s okay, and once again, sorry about weird magical logic.

Universe: Take One  
Time: 5:39 PM  
Place: Canada’s House

        England thought he had seen everything after years of education in dark magic and roaming the streets of London in search of mastermind criminals, but this...this was a whole new level of weird. His body completely faded away from thin air altogether in what was a few short seconds of chaos, and then he felt his limbs tingle back to life just as quickly as if he was made of puzzle pieces forced into place. To make matters more abnormal, there were flashes of light all around him. They weren’t pretty though like shooting stars lighting up the sky for a brief moment of elegance and then gracefully petering out. No, these flashes were rather obnoxious like a spotlight pointed directly at his face every single time. _All of this defies even my comprehension,_ Arthur thought to himself as he desperately closed his eyes. _Oh well, I guess life is full of whimsical happenings isn’t it?_ That last thought was actually a quote from one of his favorite Sherlock books, but England didn’t know that.

        Fortunately for the Englishman, the blinding flashes began to form more tolerable images that his body aimlessly floated through, defying all the laws of space and time. There were fairly basic images at first like ones you might see hanging on a wall. There was a group of amber tree leaves shinning in the sun with hints of red and gold. There was a tan field of grain blowing in a light, summer breeze. There were images of bright, blue sky and of two children racing after one another, laughing as hard as they possibly could. _America and Canada,_ England mused to himself as watched the two play, unaware of the grief they would soon face. Then he watched on in horror as a fire began to blaze and screams could be heard from the two little mouths. He flinched at their pain, flinched at what felt like real flames licking at his skin. He could of sworn he felt that same searing heat and smelled the scent of chard branches wafting through the air.  
  
        Yet, even the fire faded away as England continued on his journey, scenes drifting in and out of his sight. _At least I’m in the right place,_ he thought as he gently comforted himself. _These are most certainly his memories. Now to get into that other universe._ As if on cue, Arthur found himself rapidly accelerating through a whirl of pictures, each one coming upon him faster and faster. It was as if he was fast-forwarding through an action movie to the point where everything around him became one blur of motion. He caught sight of Alfred sitting down in a hallway with tears streaming down his cheeks. He saw him eating cereal with that alien right in front of him. He looked on as America timidly stepped across the threshold of Canada’s house with a package balanced in his hands, and then it became too much. He felt himself grow dizzy as everything blended together, and he found his own mind sinking into a deep, deep slumber as the visions dissolved away...

* * *

        “Finally! It took that git long enough!”

        England opened his eyes in a daze, his head spinning as he glanced around warily at his blurry surroundings. At first, he thought he was dreaming. After all, that voice seemed so familiar, too familiar that is. It was as though he heard the voice everyday like some sort of conscience always whispering in his ear. Sighing, he decided it was better to collect more information on his current whereabouts before he went with the dream theory, and he glanced upwards, trying to locate the source of the sound. It took a bit of doing, but eventually his eyesight focused on a blonde figure, hovering over him, with eyes a startling green and eyebrows as thick as tree trunks.

        “How’s it going, old chap?” his own self asked gently as he offered his hand to England. The nation took it thankfully, and he heaved his body upright off of the dusty floor, groaning a little bit as he eased his way upwards.

        “Good considering I just defied all logic, traveled across universes, and made it here alive,” Arthur managed to chuckle despite the spinning in his head that made him sick to his stomach. He then stared up at his double curiously as he took in the sight of the other’s scarlet, checkered handkerchief, black jacket, and dark skinny jeans. _Not my choice of outfits, but he seems like a decent fellow. Hopefully he can give us some of the answers we are looking for._ “That is I’m assuming I am in the original universe,” England continued as he eyed twisted replicas of his fellow countries huddled nearby.

        “Not to worry,” other Arthur assured his double, “you are correct. America finally managed to find you like I told him to earlier. I know I shouldn’t criticize him too harshly because of the curse that was in his way, but we have been waiting for him for hours. I was getting pretty worried that you’d never show up.” Something about other England’s words puzzled the second universe Englishman greatly. _A couple hours?_ he wondered in befuddlement. _It’s probably been years on our end since Alfred cast that spell, but he said it’s only been a few hours?! How can that possibly be right? I...I don’t understand._

        “Is something bothering you?” original England asked through a bit of concern. “You seem a bit pale. You’re not ill are you?”

        “No, no,” second England replied hastily. “I mean the journey did make be feel a bit under the weather, but it’s just there’s one thing I don’t get. You said you’ve only been waiting a couple of hours here. How can that be right? It’s been centuries and centuries since our universe was created!” Yet, his original copy didn’t seem fazed at all by the other’s worry, and his face seemed to brighten up, clearly proud of the knowledge he was about to share.

        “Think of it this way, other me,” he pointed out rather simply. “Your world is like Narnia, and ours is the real one.”

        “Oh, that does make sense now. That certainly cleared that puzzle up didn’t it?”

        “No, no,” came a rather disgruntled and angry cry second Arthur quickly realized was from Austria. “You can’t just make random literary references and expect everyone to know what you’re talking about! We want to understand just as much as this clone of yours.” England thought he heard his double murmur something around the lines of “Why don’t you let out all your anger on the piano instead of complaining?”, but he held his tongue for the most part in his gentleman-like fashion.

        “There is a famous book series in my country called the Chronicles of Narnia,” first England explained slowly for the other nations to comprehend. “In one of the books, four children enter this fantasy land of Narnia, aging to adulthood, and after multiple years have gone by, they find themselves back in their own world and childish bodies as though no time has passed at all. Now, as I was saying, their world is Narnia, and ours is the real one. That’s why it’s only been a couple of hours on our end while he has had to wait for centuries. Time flows faster there since it’s a different universe.” The explanation was enough for Austria, but he still appeared baffled by magical logic. In fact, he would have asked a question had original England not noticed something.

        “That’s not a Sherlock hat is it?” he asked in a bit of horror as the realization finally dawned on him. “You look like my Halloween costume from a few years back! Oh, please tell me you’re not going through a phase right now! That pirate one was enough for...”

        “Look other...um first me...”

        “Just call me Britain. It will make things much easier.”

        “Britain, we don’t have time for this!” England exhaled rather loudly as he felt his anxiety spilling over. “America...uh your America actually told us that our whole universe is falling apart. He said to go to you for help, and look you’re our only chance right now! If we don’t stop this soon, it will be catastrophic. Terrible earthquakes are already happening near us, and they’re getting longer and worse...and I don’t know what to do...I” It was then that England started hyperventilating. Everything just became too much for him: the two universes, the whole world is dying, his other self didn’t think he was a detective. It was too much for even the great Sherlock to handle. Surprisingly though Britain appeared rather calm as he patted his double on the shoulder.

        “Don’t be afraid,” he hushed gently as he eased the other’s nerves. “Sure it all seems terrible, but there’s an easy solution to this problem.” England immediately perked up at the words “easy solution” as color immediately returned to his face.

        “Great what is it?”

        “Well,” Britain began rather hesitantly. “It’s not the best solution to your problem, but it’s the only one I can see I’m afraid. I’ll you have to do is take America’s wand, break it, and wish that your universe doesn’t exist.” That was most certainly not the answer England was looking for as a great deal of anger crept over him.

        “What! Your answer to helping our universe from being destroyed is to destroy it?! Explain to me how that’s supposed to work!”

        “Sh, calm down, mate,” Britain hushed gently as though he was speaking to a young colony and not his other self. England did not want to calm down, but inwardly he knew that this was their only chance at finding some solution. So he bit his lip, and he listened to what his copy had to say. “It’s not as bad as you think it is. Things will just return to the way they were originally. Our consciousnesses will just meld into one...probably like the way America is now but more mixed. In other words, you’ll still have all of your old memories and will still be alive, but there will only be this universe. Look yours is unstable. I knew that from the beginning when I personally ruined America’s curse. It was destined to fall apart, so you might as well let it.”

        England did not like that idea at all. He preferred the idea of not destroying the home he had lived in for all of his life. His London was a paradise with all the burglar and arsonist and serial killer cases he had to deal with. _Okay maybe I do need friends for a change,_ he admitted in his brain as he thought over the current predicament. _Perhaps this universe will help, and Britain doesn’t seem so bad. It’s not even that hard of a solution anyway. One wand break, and this will all be over._ Yet, a few things bothered him relentlessly as his stomach fluttered, and the hairs prickled up on his neck. _What did America wish for exactly? He never did tell us did he? Plus, I wonder if this Britain knows anything about...them._

        “Britain?” England asked rather timidly as he recalled the incident at the party. “Have you...have you ever come across strange creatures? They look like mirror images of nations, but the colors are all wrong and...they’re complete monsters. They’ve been chasing America for years now, hunting him down, and they kill anyone in their path. You wouldn’t happen...happen to know anything about them would you?” He personally left out the bit about their leader, Moriarty. _I don’t want to worry him too much,_ he told himself scoldingly. _That’s just an issue I’ll have to deal with on my own._

        “Strange creatures...” Britain murmured softly to himself as his eyes widened, and his prior ease abruptly faded away in a matter of seconds. “Oh, no this is what I was afraid of! Of course, it happened. Why does everything that can go wrong, go wrong?”

        _The phrase, “anything thing that can go wrong, will go wrong,” is also known as Murphy’s law, and the beginnings of the idea started to appear around 1866 with the mathematician Augustus de Morgan. The quote became tied to Murphy though when he and Captain John Strapp of the U.S. Air Force were working with rocket sleds. While testing, some of the equipment to measure the g-forces was put on backwards, and it was then that Murphy uttered the famous phrase which has been condensed throughout the years. There have also been multiple takeoffs such as “the other line always moves faster,” “every solution breeds new problems,” and the famous “never play leapfrog with a unicorn.”_

        “Britain, what’s the matter?” England exclaimed out of fear as his copy began to sway from side to side as though he were going to faint on the spot.

        “This is bad,” he mumbled almost unintelligibly as he was forced to lean against a wall to remain upright. “This is very bad. Those creatures, as you call them, are what are known as 2ps, or second players if you will. If magic is used to mess with timelines, universes, and other forces beyond a nation’s control, these creatures are born. They are opposite copies of ourselves that seek to destroy whoever messed with the nature of things, and they won’t stop...until the person is dead. They’re one of the only things that can...can kill nations.” He spoke that last bit through a fit of shivers as though he had caught a chill, but it wasn’t a cold that was troubling the poor country. No, it was terror. Pure terror ate at him ferociously as his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

        “Won’t they be destroyed though with the destruction of our universe?” England wondered with a slight glimmer of hope he knew was too good to be true. “They’ll be gone, and we won’t have to deal with them anymore. Then they’ll finally leave America alone!”

        “If only, it were that simple,” Britain sighed audibly as he gazed up at the ceiling as if in search of answers. “They’re just like us in a way. If your universe is destroyed, they’ll just end up in ours like you will. Nothing can stop them...well except a wand break of course, but that’s impossible for you to do. You can’t destroy your universe, _and_ them with one wand!”

        “So it’s either we save our universe and they kill America,” England wondered out loud, “or we kill them and our universe perishes? That doesn’t seem fair. There has to be another way, another option.”

        “There’s none,” Britain whispered gently to himself as though he was recalling a distant memory. “You are all doomed, or America is. And I think we both know the choice that git is going to make, and nothing’s going to stop him.” England nodded his head at that, understanding the gentleman perfectly despite their brief time together. _He’s going to end up getting himself killed!_ he thought to himself in anguish. _No way he’d let Canada die again, not on his watch. Ugh, there’s got to be another way, another wand, another plan we can use...wait a minute. Another wand?_

        “Britain?” England murmured softly as noticed water droplets starting to form in his other’s eyes. “We have two wands. America snatched one from the creatures...2ps earlier, and it doesn’t seem to hate him so...”

        “Two wands!” Britain immediately shouted, his emotions turning around as abruptly as the launch of a roller coaster. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?! You almost gave me a...well that’s not important now. What matters is you’ve got to either locate them in your world and kill them before the universe breaks, or we’ll fight them in ours. Either way this just became ten times easier! You do have them located right?” He looked so hopeful and full of sudden positivity that England didn’t want to have to tell him that Alfred vanquished them with his wand. _Well, might as well get this over with._

        “Not...not exactly,” he began, automatically extinguishing the other’s enthusiasm, “but Tony and America have been working on tracking them. Plus, we do have their wand, so we can use that to find them by...”

        “Wait that alien is actually nice to you!?” Britain screeched as his face quickly reddened with anger. “That’s not fair! That wanker never liked me, always staring at me with those beady eyes of his!!!”

        “Why don’t you calm down and have some churros?” Spain tried to offer. Fortunately, the Englishman rapidly appeared to gain his composure.

        Yet, it wasn’t the churros that soothed him. No, something peculiar caught him by surprise. He was staring directly at England, well at what was left of him anyway. The nation seemed to be disappearing right before their very eyes. It was as though, bit by bit, someone was taking out the atoms that made him up until there was nothing left in some areas but a fuzzy outline of a country. With every passing moment, he became more and more transparent as Britain’s now somber expression only intensified. _We don’t have much time,_ he noted in his mind as he gazed at his double through worried eyes. _I can only hope that I’ve told him all that he needs to know._

        “Listen, other me,” he said firmly as he noticed the fear starting to grow within his double. “You’re being called back to your own universe. You know what to do now! Go figure out a plan to coordinate the two wand breaks, and save America. Be...be his hero.” He spoke the last bit softly, clearly lost in his own thoughts, as he glanced sadly at where the vortex had swallowed up Alfred hours earlier.

        “Heroes don’t exist,” England scoffed bitterly, “and if they did, I wouldn’t be one of them.”

        “No, you wouldn’t,” Britain admitted, “but you will be.” It was then that the two thought they heard some comment around the lines of “That’s mixing two different Sherlocks. He can’t do that!”, but they both ignored it as Britain took England’s fading hand in his own. “Look I know it may seem difficult,” he continued, much to his clone’s annoyance, “but you’ve got this. You’re...the great Sherlock Holmes, the finest detective in all of the world. With a brain as smart as yours, you can do anything.” England blushed heavily at the compliment as he puffed his chest out with a bit of smug pride. His other self clearly knew how to boost his self-confidence, so much so that he almost missed the quiet whisper of a voice coming from a vaguely familiar looking face.

        “Could you do me a favor?” a nation England realized was Canada asked faintly. “Could you...could you tell my brother something if it’s not to much to ask?” In his last few seconds in their universe, England turned to the country expectantly. He marveled at just how different this version of Canada was. Sure he had the same looks, the same blond hair, the same purple eyes, but it seemed to the Brit that he was a completely different person. _He almost acts like America,_ he noted thoughtfully right before the Canadian began to speak again. “Good thank you,” he continued appreciatively. “Tell him I...I love him. As a brother that...” His words got cut off sharply as England’s vision began to grow hazier, and before he knew it, everything started to fade away.

* * *

        “Oh, good he’s back.”

        England moaned loudly as he eased his way back up onto his feet. Luckily for him, he noticed a few things hastily despite the spinning in his head and the weird tingling sensation he felt throughout his limbs. For one, he knew at once that this was his own universe. That certainly calmed him down more than he thought it would considering this was the universe that was currently falling apart. Second, this was, in fact, not a dream. He knew that from the alien eyeing him from behind one of the surviving coffee mugs. Third, the voice he had heard he now found out was France. He glanced at the Brit thoughtfully as more words began to filter out of his mouth.

        “So,” he began to ask, “how did it go?”

        “Guys, I can’t find America!” came the screaming voice of Canada as he bolted into the kitchen, beads of sweat pouring off of his forehead like a rainstorm. “I looked everywhere: upstairs, downstairs, outside, but I still can’t find him. He’s gone! Oh, my what if those killers found him, or what if he passed out again?! What if he’s somewhere dying without us knowing, and I lost him again? I can’t have that happen! I can’t have him die on me...”

        It was at that point that Canada’s rant no longer made any sense whatsoever as he went on full on panic mode, running around in circles like some sort of mad man. He even wrung his hands through his hair, pulling at the curly strands as though he was purposefully trying to pull them out of his head. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before they all heard the tell-tale sign of a sink running upstairs and the sound of feet making their way down the creaky steps.

        “What’s going on down here?” Alfred asked in confusion as he was tackled by a relieved blur of Canadian. He would have almost buckled under the weight of his twin, but luckily, with his super-strength, Matthew felt more like a paper weight. It was the shock that effected America the most as he awkwardly patted his still sobbing brother’s back, and he sighed at the mumbles of “You’re alive!” amongst the tears.

        “Jeez, Canada,” Alfred exhaled sharply as he tried to loosen the other’s grip. “I only had to go to the bathroom! I’m not going anywhere.” Even with America’s protesting, his brother insisted on clinging to his arm like a stubborn child. “Love you too,” the nation finally ended up muttering endearingly before trudging over to his kitchen table. England watched on as he took a seat behind a shiny laptop and began typing rather clumsily dude to his peculiar arm warmer. Yet, fairly soon his eyes drifted up from the screen as he began to notice the awkward silence that began to sift through the room. It wasn’t long before he caught sight of fuzzy eyebrows pointed in his direction.

        “England, you’re back!” he exclaimed in surprise, happy to see that the country truly hadn’t disappeared from the face of the Earth. “I was almost worried you’d pop up centuries later. Glad to see you’re okay though. Learn anything useful?” Everyone turned their attention to the now slightly anxious Brit who squirmed under their hopeful stares, knowing fully well that they might hate him for the information he was about to share.

        “Well...” he began with a nervous chuckle, “there’s good news, and there’s bad news.”

        The other nations plus alien most certainly did not like where this was going, but they listened intently with bated breath at every word he had to say. After all, their whole universe’s future was at stake, so this was the time they needed to focus the most. And focus they did as they took in the information the Englishman gave them. Now, at first, they were a bit angry to say the least at the whole “we have to destroy our plane of existence thing.” Tony especially mumbled a stream of curse words the others dared not ever repeat, but eventually they all warmed up to the idea if only slightly. It wasn’t like they had a choice in the matter anyway. Still, there remained one important detail left to be worked out. It was one that Francis picked up right away as he fiddled with his hands.

        “So what do you think we should so?” he asked the group intently. “Should we find these 2ps before things get too out of hand here, or should we try to go after them in the next universe? Either way, we’re going to have to face them eventually. The first option might give us less time though, and I’d hate to see any of us getting hurt. We’ve been through enough as it is.” The others except Tony hummed in agreement, but America didn’t seem so sure. He furrowed his eyebrows worriedly as he gazed at what England soon realized was the second wand lying in front of him.

        “No,” he spoke rather defiantly, curling his hands into fists to try to control himself, “we can’t do that! We have to find them in our universe. We’re so close to catching them now with the technology Tony and I developed and now this wand! We can track them easily and quickly with a little bit of work. There’s no way we’re erasing this universe just to have all the hard work I’ve put into this go down the drain! I can’t lose against them again. I can’t lose now while we have the upper hand!” He huffed that last part as Canada gently massaged his back in the hope of comforting his twin. It was clear to all of them that he was too stubborn to change his mind, and nothing was going to convince him otherwise.

        “I suppose you do have a point,” England grunted as he shook his head. “We do have all the evidence we need here to find them and take them out.” He said those words as though he never wanted to say them in the first place, too miffed that he was actually agreeing with the craziness that was America’s plan.

        “Why can’t we just break the wand here?” France piped up, all of a sudden, as the lightbulb went off in his head. “That way no one gets hurt, and they won’t try to kill us.”

        “I only it were that simple,” America sighed. “For beings this powerful, you have to get as close as you possibly can to at least a few of them for the magic to work. I’ve learned that from...several failed attempts. Yeah it sucks, but at least we have the upper hand this time. In fact, I was just about to try and start our locating systems that Tony and I developed right now. Speaking of which, Tony I could use your help here if you don’t mind.” The alien just nodded his head knowingly before joining his friend at the table, his own laptop appearing before him as though it had been pulled from thin air.

        “That’s great!” England exclaimed rather enthusiastically despite the tense situation. “Oh, and while you’re hunting down the suspects, we can get a team of nations together to combat them. That way they’ll surely be outnumbered this time!” The others clearly liked his idea, but once again, America was the odd one out. He frowned more with worry than distaste as if he was picturing all the outcomes of that idea on a movie screen.

        “We can’t have other countries join us!” he yelled frantically. “Number one, they don’t have as much experience as I do with these creatures, and number two, they could seriously get hurt. Trust me on this one. What you saw at the party was nothing. You have no idea what they are capable of...” Alfred drifted off at the end of that, halting his typing on the keyboard, to recall all the horrors they had committed in their pursuit of what he now realized was destroying himself. _If I hadn’t made that curse, none of this would have ever happened!_ he screamed in his mind as he bit his lip out of self-hatred. _Everything that the 2ps have ever done, everyone they’ve ever hurt, is my fault! I’m the one to blame for all of this, and if this “team of nations” gets hurt because of me, I could never forgive myself..._

        “You shouldn’t even have to come with me anyway,” America went on as the guilt continued to pile up with every passing moment. “I don’t want you to get injured too! I’ve hurt enough people as it is. This is my problem that I have to deal with, not yours, mine. After all, it’s my fault we’re in this mess in the first place isn’t it? I’ll...I’ll fix this myself.” He huffed that last bit to himself as the frown on his face only deepened, and he turned his attention back to the screen in front of him. The others could tell that Alfred wanted to get this over with and quickly before anything else decided to happen.

        America was angry at himself, angry at the situation he realized he had put the others in. _Let’s see how many things I’ve messed up shall we?_ he thought in exasperation. _I’ve created these murders, I’ve harmed many of my friends due to them, I’ve made Canada depressed without me, and oh, look this whole universe is going to be destroyed! How could anyone have messed up that badly?!_ America felt as though he was going to cry, but instead, he just took his frustration out on the keys, slamming them down so hard the others were afraid he was going to break something. Yet, all his fury faded away the moment Canada squeezed one of his shoulders gently, staring at him directly so that Alfred knew it was impossible to look away.

        “Hey, I thought we agreed on this earlier,” he stated firmly as America once again halted his work. “We’re doing this together right?! You don’t have to go through this alone you know! I’m here for you...well we’re all here for you. It’s us nations against them. We can do this! We can defeat them! Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? They won’t attack anyone else. We can win this thing.”

        “But what if we don’t?!” America shouted a bit louder than even he expected. “Then what? Look this is _my_ battle, _my_ problem. I know that now. You don’t have to tag along; I can handle them!”

        “Oh, really?” Canada inquired, studying his brother’s actions intently. “Then why are your hands shaking? Plus, there’s still sweat on your forehead! You’re sick still aren’t you? If you ask me, you should be the one staying home. You need rest not mortal...er immortal combat!” America looked as though he wanted to protest, but he held his tongue. There was no way Alfred could get mad at Canada, and his twin used it to his advantage. “Look I know you blame yourself, but now is not the time for blame! Think about what would happen if you passed out again mid-fight with these guys. Who would save you?! We have a much greater shot of taking them down if we work together, so let us help you.” America knew that there was no way he was going to get around his brother’s stubbornness, so he finally gave in with a loud groan.

        “Fine we can call a team of nations to help us,” he caved, “but they better know what they’re doing. And...and you can come too. At least, then I can keep an eye on you.” Canada swatted his head playfully at that comment, but he smiled brightly at their prospects. _Now, we have a chance,_ he thought giddily. _With a bunch of us countries around, there’s no way we can lose._

        “I’ll go contact Germany now,” France announced, reaching down to pull out his phone. “Everyone is still in Canada right now anyway. I’m sure he can find some people to help us.”

        The rest of the group nodded at that as the nation began plugging in numbers on his phone, and pretty soon they could hear the sound of urgent chatter coming from the other end. Yet, America’s attention wasn’t averted for long, and pretty soon he went back to tapping at the keys. It was as if he was playing a piano of sorts, his fingers floating across the letters. The action captivated Canada’s attention as he watched his brother’s hands dance subconsciously as Alfred remained locked on the screen. Speaking of said screen, that was another thing he was still trying to understand. It was covered in hoards of fancy gibberish he couldn’t begin to read, and the gibberish just kept changing and shifting with every tap, tap of the keys. It both confused the Canadian and captivated him all at the same time.

        “Hey, America?”

        “Yeah, bro.”

        “What exactly are you doing?” he asked curiously as he squinted at the mysterious screen. “This can’t be your locating software can it? It doesn’t look like you could find anything with this nonsense. Did Tony write most of this in his language? It doesn’t look like English.” Alfred laughed a bit at that, and the alien seemed a bit offended. He didn’t take it personally though and just went back to doing his thing.

        “Nah, this isn’t the locating software,” America chuckled lightly. “I’m just trying to get into the Pentagon.” He brushed off the explanation as if it was nothing, and he never even glanced in Canada’s direction to see the look of shock spread across his face.

        “You’re hacking into the Pentagon!” he shouted, his jaw dropping open. “This...this is you’re locating software?”

        “Nope, Tony’s working on the locating bit right now. I just need to get some government footage for him to use.”

        “You can’t do this!” Canada screamed as his mind went into freak out mode. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s illegal? Ah, we’re going to get in so much trouble for this! They don’t even know who you are, and you could end up in jail or worse...Then we’ll never save our universe and defeat these monsters. We’re all going to become national criminals! What are we going to do? What are we...”

        “Relax,” America hushed, waving off Canada’s worries. “It isn’t like they’re going to find out anyway. We’re professionals! Plus, I’m not doing anything wrong. I _am America,_ and these guys are taking footage of me. They should be the ones asking for permission, not the other way around! Besides, they’ll thank us later after we destroy...er save everyone.” At that, his twin started fuming and pacing frantically around the room, muttering profanities and something along the lines of “This is what happens when you leave him by himself for four centuries!” Yet, his frustration ceased once he noticed something critical. Alfred had stopped tapping relentlessly on the keys, and he stared at the screen with a rather smug grin.

        “You’re finished already?” Canada questioned with a bit of curiosity that he was having trouble hiding.

        “Yep.”

        “Really that quickly? It’s only been a couple minutes, and it’s the fricken Pentagon!”

        “I told you,” America just chucked as his grin only grew wider and wider. “We’re professionals. Now all we’ve got to do is sit back and let Tony do his thing! Isn’t that right Tony?” Said alien flashed the nations a thumbs-up as he got to work, staring rather intently at his own screen just like America only moments earlier.

        _The thumps-up has a rather convoluted and twisted history. What we do know is that it originated from ancient Roman gladiatorial fights when referees decided whether or not to kill a gladiator. Now, while the thumbs-up is a positive symbol today, back then it may have just been the opposite, a symbol of death. There are some theories that state that a thumbs-up meant kill, and a thumbs-down meant “stick the weapon in the ground.” Others say the ancient thumbs-up was like giving the middle finger, and it became a threat._

_So how did everything get switched around? Some dude (Jean-Léon Gérôme) painted one of these Roman scenes with the thumbs all wrong.Therefore, things got switched, and by the time WWI came around, Americans started using it as an “ok” symbol when planes were ready to take off. This made the thumbs-up more mainstream. So that’s how a ruthless and violent symbol of “life or death” became a harmless emoji you can find on any digital keyboard._

        The other nations waited in agony, eyes all but burning holes in Tony’s head, as they watched him get down to business. It seemed to the others as though he was the complete opposite of the American, working painfully slow at the speed of sloth. Every press of the keys, every mumble that came from his mouth only increased their torture. They waited and waited and waited some more and then waited again, but nothing seemed to be happening. It was as if they were all watching fresh paint dry on a wall, hopelessly staring and staring. England was almost going to offer to read the blog that Dr. Watson (he) had started, relaying his adventures, when at last, Tony let out a satisfied list of swears. It would have annoyed the Frenchman to death, but they were all too focused on the alien, rushing over to his side of the screen.

        “Found them,” he stated rather simply as everyone let out great sighs of relief.

        “Great where are they?” Canada asked intently, itching to get this over with. _The sooner we find the 2ps and destroy them, the sooner we can collapse this universe. Then America will have no reason to be stressed anymore, and we’ll all be safe!_

        “Not that far away actually,” Tony replied in that squeaky voice of his. “They’re still in the country. I believe they’re in the state of Virginia to be exact, so it shouldn’t be too hard for Alfred to teleport us there with his wand. Here’s the feed if you want to see what they’re doing.” The others very much wanted to see what they were doing, and they leaned their heads in closer to get a look at the killers that had terrified them only moments earlier.

        As they eyed the computer in front of them, they realized that there were more of these creatures than the four they had seen at the party, and the extra were just as disturbing and terrifying to watch as their brethren. It sent chills down all of their backs, watching as they gathered around like some sort of cult. Now there was no sound, but they could tell by the way some were gathering weapons or collecting around that they were planning something. Whatever it was, was certainly not good, and America especially flinched as he eyed a picture of himself with various torture methods displayed across it.

        It didn’t help, of course, that this all seemed familiar to him. The trees that they were gathered around, the setting that they chose just didn’t sit quite right with him. It was as if, despite the broad daylight, it had appeared to him in a terrible nightmare. The way the branches cast long shadows across the creatures, the lifelessness of the forest itself spooked him to no end, and he glanced at Canada only to see a similar look of terror in his eyes. Even England too seemed to understand their fright as he remembered his trip through America’s mind, as he remembered the two little nations running for their lives. This was the forest they had lost each other in; this was the place that had haunted them in their dreams. The memory became too much for Alfred to bare, or maybe it was the fever that finally got to him. Whatever the reason, he started to feel a little too light-headed. Black dots soon appeared before him, only increasing as they began to fill up his vision.

        “America?!” Canada shouted at his twin in surprise as he watched him sway and sway some more. Luckily, this time Matthew managed to sweep his arms under his brother before he fainted on the spot, letting the twisted unconsciousness consume him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were wondering, yes England eventually does tell America Canada’s message. It’s just a bit later on. Oh, and I think this is the last time Alfred passes out. Sorry if that’s getting too repetitive.


	10. Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You were right,” Alfred admitted somberly as he stared into those concerned, amethyst eyes of his twin as the ground began to crack around them. “I was afraid of going back there. I was afraid when I found out that all this was my fault, and I thought, I thought you would hate my guts...but you’ll always love me. You’ll always love me, right?”
> 
> “Of course, you idiot,” Canada chuckled gently despite his own eyes watering as he reached to clutch America desperately. “You’ll always be my brother, always.”
> 
> “No matter what?”
> 
> “No matter what.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I’m finally back after weeks! Sorry about that. My schedule has turned into hectic mode once again. Anyway, here it is, chapter 10! Finally, here’s one of the major fight scenes in the story. The next and final one is next chapter thank goodness. I also did try my best to include more 2ps this time, but it was hard to balance so many characters at once. So sorry for the short appearances. Also, I apologize if some of them aren’t portrayed right. I only have a limited experience with the 2ps. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and here’s the next chapter!

        America awoke to a mix of strange feelings that he couldn’t quite understand. For one, he was hot. Well, not that England breaking out of a German jail and praising himself kind of hot, but rather he was hot all over as though he was inside a furnace. Every inch of his skin felt as though it was on fire, and he writhed around in discomfort. It didn’t help, of course, that he was sweating profusely, and his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his skin. Then there were the annoying sheets that he soon realized he had been placed in, and they only made the problem worse, increasing the heat that surrounded his body. America hated those sheets for making his torture more unbearable, and he thrashed about, struggling to get free of their insufferable grasp. It was no use. He felt drained, too weak to even move a single finger, and he was left utterly helpless.

        Yet, there was also a second feeling that he felt. A refreshing coolness rested upon his sweltering forehead. It was like a single ice cube in a vast sea of lava, but something about it brought relief to him if only a little. Sure he was beyond discomfort, but that coolness made it at least slightly tolerable. It wasn’t long before he realized the source of this cold was from a spare cloth that had been laid across his forehead and soaked in water to dull the fire inside of him. _So I have a fever,_ America mused to himself as he blinked hazily at the white sheets that surrounded him. _This is just great! Our whole universe is going to collapse, and here I am stuck with a little illness. How am I supposed to help the others out now?! I can’t even get out of these darn sheets!_

        “America, are you awake?” came a voice from close by. America blinked a couple of times before he realized that the voice was from Canada. He was hovering over his twin worriedly with those amethyst eyes of his filled with concern. To America, Canada seemed as though he believed that his brother was going to die at any second. It was as though he thought this time America would disappear and never return. Alfred could tell that much from that gaze of his and the way he scrunched his eyebrows together in anxiety.

        “I’m not sure if this is what you would call being awake,” America ended up replying with a groan as he once again tugged at the stupidly confining sheets. “Everything is so fuzzy.” He mused that last bit as he struggled to take in his surroundings, barely catching sight of France, England, and Tony gathered around his bedroom.

        “So the fever is getting to you, huh?” Canada muttered softly as he reached down to touch his twin’s burning forehead, flinching at the heat his hand received.

        “Feels...like...I’m dying,” Alfred complained more into his pillow than to Matthew as he tried desperately to find a more comfortable position. “Everything is so hot, so hot.” He continued that bit absentmindedly, much to Canada’s only growing concern. He bit his lip as though trying desperately to hold back words he knew he had to say, but in the end, he found his voice.

        “Hey, America?”

        “Yeah?”

        “Do you think...” Canada began hesitantly as he stared down now more at the floor than his twin. “Do you think that you’re going to be able to take down the 2ps with us? It looks like you’re quite sick this time, and it’s not going to fade away like it has in the past. Maybe it would be better if you know you stayed behind on this one. I know you really wanted to do this yourself, but I just don’t think it’s such a great idea now. I mean you seem as though you shouldn’t even be able to get out of bed let alone fight these guys! I think—well we were thinking—that it might be best if you stayed out of this. You need your rest not a battle!” America’s body wanted to agree with him. He wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and let them do all the fighting, but there was a fighting spirit within him that he just couldn’t shake.

        “No, you’re not going out there alone!” America grunted angrily in return. “I’m the only one who knows these guys. I’m the only one who can use the wand! I have to be there! Besides I’m perfectly fine. It’s just a little, tiny fever! I can fight through it. This sickness won’t beat me!” He meant to make that last part sound tougher than he felt as he sat up in bed enthusiastically, but he just ended up collapsing moments later back in bed like a dog after chasing one too many runaway tennis balls.

        “You’re staying in bed,” Canada now all but ordered firmly as he glared sternly at his twin. “We’ve talked it over, and we figured if you’re not ready to do this, we’ll just have Tony look after you. Since you clearly don’t look healthy, we’ll just have to leave you in his hands. I’m sorry, but I just can’t have you go in this condition! You understand that right? I can’t lose you again, America.” He spoke that last bit tenderly as he gently patted his brother on the shoulder. He stared at him as though he was mentally taking a photograph, so he’d never again forget his face.

        “I do understand,” Alfred spoke just as firmly as he gazed at his twin with a certain fire in his eyes. “I can’t lose you again either. That’s...that’s why I’m coming with you!” With that, America leapt out of bed, and immediately he appeared to regret his decision. His body convulsed in shivers, and his legs trembled and swayed as if he was going to collapse again on the spot. Surprisingly though he remained upright. It must have been his stubbornness that kept him on his feet even though he now felt absolutely freezing and dizzy beyond belief. Nothing was going to prevent him from joining along.

        “America, I don’t think this is such a good idea,” Canada said desperately as he struggled to drag his sibling back into bed. “Come on, and work with me on this! Go to sleep.”

        “Nope, not going to happen!”  
  
        “Please.”

        “No.”

        “Please, for me?”

        “No.”

        “Time is disappearing the more we wait here!” England warned as Alfred persisted in ignoring Canada’s pleas as though he was some five-year-old forced to eat his vegetables. “I thought we agreed on destroying these 2ps first. If we want to _ever_ do this, we have to get to the forest right away. Norway already used his magic to transport Germany and the rest to Virginia hours ago. We’re going to be late if we wait any longer, and the longer we wait, the more this universe decays!”

        “Why do I find myself agreeing with England recently?” France groaned not so subtly. “Anyway, we need to figure something out now. Come on you’re both adults now. Get a grip, and make a decision.” The two brothers huffed at his all but patronizing tone, but they both knew that France and England were right. They did need to make a decision and fast. It just became a matter of who was going to end up caving first. It wasn’t long before they both figured out the answer to that question.

        “Fine you can come along with us,” Canada mumbled in a bit of despair as he continued to eye his still shivering twin, “but you’re going to stay out of the fighting no matter what. Put that magic of yours to good use, and make a shield like you did last time. That way we won’t have to worry about you.” America nodded his head weakly at that, but inwardly he understood that he couldn’t make any promises. If his brother got himself into trouble, he knew he wouldn’t we able to stand there and watch him get hurt, not after what happened to Mrs. Higgins. He was musing that thought somberly—pondering all of the things that could possibly go wrong—when he felt something hit him in the chest.

        “And put on this jacket I found in your closet,” Canada added as America stared in surprise at the brown fabric lying in his hands. “I’m not about to have you shivering on my watch.” Alfred mumbled something under his breath about how France had turned Matthew into his mother, but he put on the piece of clothing anyway, relived to have the chills finally stop. He knew he might feel sweltering again later, but at this point, the small moment of peace was well worth it.

        “So are we ready to leave then?” England asked the group as he checked his watch intently. “I don’t want to keep our backup waiting for much longer.” They all turned their attention to the clearly sick American. Still, Alfred tried to stand up as tall as he could, and he nodded his head bravely, chest puffed out.

        “Yep, I’m all set,” America replied as he gently patted one of his pockets absentmindedly. “I’ve got the second wand in here, and the first one is in my hand...all set on that. Hey, Tony you’re okay minding the apartment?” The alien just waved in response which was enough for America. “Okay just don’t burn it down while we’re gone,” he quickly shouted before turning back to the others. “I don’t want firemen at our doorstep, _again_.” Tony just continued to wave off Alfred as he seemed to be much more interested in his laptop than his friend. America sighed at that, shaking his head, but he knew he didn’t have time to worry about the things that alien might try when he was away. _We have to face the 2ps,_ he told himself sternly. _Come on now is your moment. We’ll defeat them once and for all!_

        “Transport us!” Alfred yelled as he held his own wand high above his head, gave it a little flick, closed his eyes tightly, and pictured that familiar forest sharply in his mind.

        It wasn’t hard to visualize those woods in his head. He could see the rows and rows of trees as though it was only yesterday that he had run through them. He could see the few ancient trunks that still stood, scarred by years of torment and the fire that had once laid havoc to anything and everything in its path. He could see their branches casting shadows across the forest floor, making strange and terrifying shapes despite small glimpses of daylight. He could see every few leaf and every peculiar stump just as vividly as the ones in those dreams he used to get. No, scratch that they were nightmares, and he knew from the slight breeze that hit his neck that those visions were now a reality.

  
        “We’re here,” he whispered, ever so carefully opening his eyes.

        There was an odd silence that followed as the group of four took in their surroundings. That quiet was certainly strange. You’d think a hundreds of years after the fire the forest would have had plenty of time to recover, but something about it seemed lifeless. There wasn’t even the occasional tweet of a bird or speck of lichen on a tree to signal some kind of life. Even the trees themselves appeared almost dead, and America shivered as he glanced at their wayward branches swaying in the wind. To make matters worse, more and more clouds began to roll across the sky, and pretty soon the forest became dark with gloom. It was enough to make even the sanest and bravest of men want to run for their lives.

        “At least, there’s no guns this time,” Canada tried to joke, but it only ended up failing miserably as his body started to tremble anxiously.

        “You...know what?” America replied weakly as his sickness only seemed to worsen by the second. “I...almost would’ve preferred them. This quiet is...too much for me.”

        “Agreed,” the Canadian murmured as he huddled closer towards the group. They might have been small in number, but at least, they had each other for protection. That was enough to make Matthew feel a bit of relief, especially as he eyed the wand sticking out of Alfred’s pocket. “Now let’s meet up with the others,” he quickly added as he spied some rather terrifying bushes. “The sooner we find them, get this done, and get out of here the better. Plus, I have a feeling that we’re going to need all the backup we can get.”

        The others hummed in reply, almost too afraid now to answer him as they trudged along the forest floor, fully aware of the sound of dead leaves crunching under their footsteps. That was the only noise this forest seemed to be able to make, a crunching like the sound of bones snapping. It was enough to make all four of them believe they were chosen to star in a horror movie. However, they began to hear something far worse than leaves crunching. You see they could hear voices, or at least, they thought they were voices eerily echoing throughout the trees. In their state of terror, the voices didn’t even seem human. It was as though some monster was about to attack them by surprise as the nations fumbled about in fear.

        “Did you lads hear that?” England asked, completely petrified, as he stopped abruptly in his tracks. “Do you think it’s the 2ps? We couldn’t have appeared too close to them right? Blimey what if they’ve spotted us?! Then we’re done for; I just know it. Farewell, old chaps!”

        “You know you’d think the great Sherlock Holmes would be a little bit braver,” America muttered under his breath.

        “I heard that!”

        “Sh, listen to the woods!” France hushed as the group once again fell silent, ears trained on even the slightest of noises. There were definitely voices now. They could hear them sifting through the branches, and there were also loud snaps as though a herd of elephants was heading straight in their direction. It almost seemed as though someone was taking a bulldozer and plowing everything in their path, and it scared the nations beyond belief as they glanced wide-eyed at the source of the commotion. _Oh, no they’re going to get us,_ America mused in his thoughts as they heard the sound come closer and closer. _What do I do? I know Canada said not to get involved, but I must make a spell. But what spell can I use?! Ah, it’s already too late for planning! We’re all going to die!!!_

        “Good afternoon, my friends!” came the friendly cry of Germany as he came barreling through the trees at breakneck speed. “It’s nice to see that you arrived on time. How’s everyone doing? Are you ready to take on some deadly and murderous nations?” To say that the country gave the quartet all heart attacks, would have been an understatement. England almost fainted on the spot, France somehow ran straight into a tree despite _standing still_ , and the twins, in trying to hug each other for dear life, just ended up collapsing to the ground in a heap of twisted limbs. However, they all sighed in relief once they realized that no one in fact was trying to kill them. Well, for now anyway.

        “Jesus Murphy, Germany, it’s only you!” Canada cried as he managed to pry himself up off of the ground. “We thought those guys were coming to kill us. Did you have to be so loud? Well, anyway we’re glad to see you. The more people we have to fight on our side the better!”

        That’s when the rest of Germany’s group—consisting of the other G8 members plus Romano, Prussia, and Hungary—started to file in behind their enthusiastic leader. They appeared to be out of breath, most likely from the second German’s habit of sprinting through the trees. There was also something glaringly off about them that America just couldn’t put his finger on until he finally realized it was staring him right in the face. They were all wearing Hawaiian shirts. Yep, on each and every one of them was a neon yellow shirt with green palm trees swaying in a nonexistent breeze. They looked like mirror copies of Germany fit for a trip out to the beach. _What was Canada thinking?_ Alfred inwardly groaned at the sight of their supposed backup. _How are these guys supposed to help us?_

        “Dam it this is your idea of an army?!” he sighed, the exhaustion and illness already getting to him. “Are you sure this is such a good plan? I mean look at them!”

        “Alfred, language!” France cried at the top of his lungs despite their situation. “You shouldn’t use those kind of words. If I had raised...”

        “Ah, but I said dam, not damn,” America smirked.

        “I could still hear it in your tone of voice!”

        _A funny thing about swear words is that they’ve actually been shown to help reduce pain. A study at Keele University in England found that those who cursed, while having a hand plunged in ice water, were able to tolerate pain for 50% longer than those who didn’t. Apparently the use of swear words kicks into the body’s fight-or-flight response, causing heart rates to climb. This, in return, can make humans less sensitive to pain. So, the next time you feel the need to let some words spill out of your mouth, think of it as a defense mechanism._

        “As I was saying,” Canada spoke through gritted teeth as he glared at his twin and the Frenchman, “ _we_ are very _thankful_ for your help.”

        “Well, we’re just happy to be here,” Germany grinned as he stared proudly at his crew. The nations surrounding him didn’t seem to share in his enthusiasm. Well, maybe except for Prussia and Hungary who seemed to be the only two who actually knew what they were doing. Hungary even had a frying pan at the ready, prepared to hit anyone who crossed her path square in the head.

        The others, on the other hand, were not what you would call skilled. Japan hid timidly beneath an umbrella, eyes locked on the fading sunlight. The Italian brothers seemed to be bickering about the presence of sardines on pizza. Russia had handfuls of candy ready to throw at the 2ps when they arrived. China might have qualified as being prepared with his large collection of woks and ladles, but he was far too interested in selling his items to a quite inattentive audience. All in all, the situation was clearly hopeless. _We’re doomed,_ America couldn’t help but think over and over again. _We’re so doomed._

        “So, Alfred, you’re the real America, ya?” Germany asked boisterously, startling the worried nation to bits as he continued on without letting the American answer. “It’s good to see that you’re actually alive and know a thing or two about these creatures. Relax though, friend. You look far too pale for my liking.” Alfred was about to retort that he was down with a fever when once again they heard the deafening sound of a herd of footsteps trampling through the forest. This time around though they all knew the source behind them, and they huddled together closely as the sound of snapping branches drew nearer and nearer. The closer that sound became, the more their anxiety heightened and filled their minds with pure fear.

        “Quick, everyone, grab your white flags!” Italy spoke at once as he waved a piece of white cloth hastily and proudly through the air. “Let’s surrender, and maybe they won’t try to kill us. If not, then we can just run away and have some pizza!”

        “On the contrary, I don’t think any of you are leaving here alive,” came the icy voice of Allen as he stepped into view, his bloodied baseball bat displayed in front of him like a trophy. That was enough to make even Italy think twice about sprinting towards safety, and he and Romano decided it would be best if they huddled behind Germany, using him as a human shield to defend against the attackers. “Seriously this is the best you can do, America? I would have thought with all these years of experience under your belt and the second wand that you stole that you would have learned a thing or too. Your army is pitiful at best.”

        “What did you say?!” Hungry growled as she swung her frying pan and missed, Prussia struggling desperately to hold back her anger. “I’m going to get you for that! You’ll see. I’m going to kill all of you.”

        Yet, before she could get to doing the killing bit, the 2ps began to file in, surrounding the so-called army in a wide circle, closing around them bit by bit. It was clear what their plan was, halt America before he could do anymore magic, and they inched closer and closer to the group like sharks swimming towards a panicked school of fish. It felt like déjà to Alfred as the mess at the party seemed to reappear before his eyes. Yet, he grew even more frightened as he took in the changes this time around. Allen had also developed an army of his own, and they, much to America’s terror, were experts. His eyes widened as he caught sight of 2p Italy’s pink eyes, evil China’s rusty cleaver, and the glint shinning off of a Japanese katana. He even could have sworn he saw Germany and Russia’s murderous doubles in the crowd.

        “This isn’t good,” America whispered to himself as he suddenly felt even weaker than before. “We’re all...going to die!”

        “Stay in formation!” Germany ordered calmly despite the evil crowd of murderous beings. “Just calm down, and we’ll all be fine. There’s no need to panic.”

        That, it turned out, was easier said than done. Italy, who was already frightened earlier, now grew more and more terrified and decided it would be best to cling onto Germany’s leg, and Romano followed not long after. This left Germany in quite the pickle as he struggled to shake off the new leg weights. Then there was England. The island nation decided that now was probably the best time to go on a rant about the horrors of his arch-nemesis Moriarty, urging the other nations to avoid falling into his devious traps at all cost. His voice was so loud that the allied group of nations found it impossible to communicate any plans of attack. To make matters even more terrible, Russia decided that now was a perfect moment to use that candy of his. Before anyone could stop him, he joyfully hit his clone square in the face with various colorful sweets, and the crowd fell silent.

        At first, nothing seemed to happen. The 2p stood there with his shaggy, dark hair and crimson irises, looking like a zombie with the purple bags that plagued the skin beneath his eyes. Earlier he seemed as though he was looking more for a bed to sleep in than a fight, but the moment that wrapper touched his skin, his face hardened like stone. He spoke no words, but he drew out his led pipe as though a fire had been lit beneath him, and pretty soon Russia found himself fretfully dogging deadly blows to the head, just barely managing to escape. The 2p’s blows also had another outcome, a chain reaction. The moment the led pipe swung down, the other evil creatures began their brutal attack like a heard of lions swarming an injured gazelle.

        “America, stay close to me!” Canada shouted at once as he pulled a hockey stick out from who knows where and leapt in front of his twin protectively. “Try to pull up a shield if you can with your magic. Just don’t overwork yourself! Remember your goal is to focus on creating the wand break. So don’t worry I’ll protect you! I’ve got your back.”

        “Are you sure about that?” came the sound of an eerie voice that was far too close for comfort. Canada snapped his head around to find himself face to face with his own 2p, fit with his similar weapon plus the rusty barbed wire. Fortunately, the Canadian managed to flee the barbed hockey stick just in time before it could knock him to the ground, but the shock remained in his wide eyes as he held his own stick with trembling hands.

        “Canada!” America screamed as he stared on in horror as his worst fear seemed to come true the more he looked at his frightened twin. Alfred’s shout, much to everyone’s surprise, made something snap within Matthew as he tightened his grip with newfound ferocity. _All my life you have always been the one protecting me,_ he yelled in his mind, his gaze hardening as he glared at his enemy. _That day the fire destroyed this forest I ran away. I ran away because I was afraid, too afraid to stand up and do something. That’s...that’s not going to happen anymore. This time, America, I will save you!_ With a piercing shriek, Canada swung at his doppelgänger in fury.

        “Remember the wand, America!” he screamed at the top of his lungs between blows. “I can handle this monster!” Alfred wanted to protest his brother’s orders. He wanted to attack the 2p himself for daring to injure his twin. Yet, he couldn’t help but be filled with a certain sense of awe as he watched his once relatively passive sibling fight as though he had eons of experience, standing watch over his own terrified body. _When did he become so brave?_ America couldn’t help but muse as he gaped briefly at the sight before jerking into action. _There’s no time to think about that now!_ he scolded himself. _You have magic to preform._

        Alfred turned his own attention back to the magical stick he held within his hands. _It’s kind of funny,_ he wondered silently to himself as he touched the yellow star with ginger care. _A few centuries ago you saved my life in this forest, and now, four hundred something years later, I’m ending yours. How the times have changed._ He quickly shook off any regrets he had about breaking his precious wand as he listened to Canada grunting in the background. His yelps were enough to jar America into action. _Okay what was that spell I researched again for a wand break? I could have sworn I’ve come across it somewhere...but what was it?_ America couldn’t explain it, but some part of him had the words stored in the back of his brain. He couldn’t...he couldn’t help but feel as though he had done this same spell before in another time, in another place.

        “Santo Rita Ringo Meada Tito,” America began as the words flowed out of his lips almost naturally. “Jonah...”

        “Oh, no you don’t!” yelled a voice from nearby.

        Before America could continue with his spell, he just barley caught sight of the end of a nailed, baseball bat whizzing through the air. If Allen hadn’t shouted, he probably would have been knocked out cold with some sort of terrible concussion he didn’t want to ponder at the moment. Yet, somehow Alfred felt as though he had been knocked out, as though all the air had been stripped from his lungs, as his gaze wandered fearfully over to his evil double’s wicked grin. Allen seemed to find something funny about the way Alfred dodged his blow, and he stared viciously at the trembling American.

        “You know, Alfred,” he smirked as he neared his shaking copy. “You seem slower than the last time we meet against each other. You’re not sick are you? That would be a shame now wouldn’t it? I was kinda hoping that you’d put up more of a fight.”

        America gritted his teeth in anger as he glared at his 2p with a hate that had been lingering for years. _Great now how am I supposed to preform magic with this guy ready to kill me at any second?_ he couldn’t help but groan inwardly. _Is there anyone who can help me?_

        Alfred glanced around hastily, but the other nations seemed quite occupied at the moment. Germany was facing off, with the Italys still attached to his legs, against his own 2p. His double though seemed to be boasting more about his fighting skills than actually doing anything, but he was most certainly not out of the count. Hungary and Prussia faced off against 2p China, struggling to knock the bloody cleaver out of his hands, as the short-haired nation attacked them relentlessly. Luckily, the real China finally jared himself into action, slapping his double from behind with his menacing ladle.

        Then there was Japan who finally seemed to have some luck as the sunlight decreased in the sky, and he and his 2p were battling it out katana vs. katana. France too was occupied as he dodged countless knives his enemy threw at him whilst complaining about the existence of humanity. America also checked on Russia again to see if he was still at it, and he sighed once he noticed candy still flying through the air. Even England was busy ranting at “Moriarty” like a mad man while his 2p just stood there blinking at him as though he was somehow weirder than he was.

        “Damnit I’m alone,” he cursed under his breath as he kept a wary eye on Allen’s lurking frame. _What can I do now?_ he asked himself desperately as his own 2p drew closer and closer. _I’m not as strong as I was before at the party. Heck, I can barely stand up! Maybe Canada was right. I should never have come here._ It was then that he felt his body chill as though he had been flung into a pool filled with ice water, his limbs too frozen to more. _Could I actually die here?_ he asked himself morbidly. _It’s like the forest is getting its payback isn’t it? I almost burned alive years ago, and now it wants its revenge._ The very thought numbed him more than anything as he vaguely eyed Allen’s looming figure out of the corner of his eye.

        “America, barrier!” Canada shouted, all of a sudden, immediately jolting Alfred out of his increasing dread.

        It wasn’t long before America realized why Canada shouted like that. While he was busy wondering wether or not this was going to be his last few moments of existence, Allen was busy swinging at his nemesis with all his might, his rusty bat whooshing through the air, just barley scraping Alfred’s head as jerked away in fright. _Right there’s that guy trying to kill me,_ America noted as he tumbled to the ground due to his clumsy efforts at avoiding the menacing weapon. Now he was left, back lying on the crunching leaves below him without the energy needed to pull himself up as Allen stood there hovering above him. It seemed as though in that moment the fever made him feel a thousand times weaker, his limbs useless as Allen grinned at him like a cat cornering a mouse.

        “Goodbye, Alfred,” he grinned wickedly as the nailed-bat came crashing down.

        “Barrier!” America cried as he flicked his wand in one helpless swoosh. This time he wasn’t too late. This time crackling blue energy erupted all around him as Allen was flung through the air, landing forcefully on his spine with a loud flop as his head rammed itself into a tree root. He had done it. He had managed to fling Allen away and save himself, and yet something was terribly wrong. Something made him frown as he lay there like a lifeless doll, too weak now to even lift his head up off of the ground. It was the movement that he saw that bothered him, the movement of his 2p pushing himself off of the pine needle floor as though that fall had never even occurred in the first place.

        “So you’ve still got some life within you,” Allen spoke through a sly laugh as he turned around and walked nonchalantly back towards his defenseless foe. “We should change that shouldn’t we?” Before America could so much as scream, one of his fingers touched the flickering blue energy barrier. That was all it took. One finger and the entire thing dissolved before Alfred’s eyes in a blinding flash of light and disorientation. He was left defeated right in front of his enemy, completely and utterly powerless to the creature towering above him.

        “I’ll be the judge of that,” came an unexpected voice from the shadows.

        England walked in front of America. That’s right England. He stood in front of the younger exhausted and panting. His clothes were all torn in random areas as though he had been dragged through a row of spikes. His Sherlock hat was nowhere to be found. His body altogether looked as though it had been put through a war and back, and yet he stood there with his chest puffed out and a spindly tree branch in his right hand. It was only weeks later that America would learn that he had used that same stick to smack his 2p square in the chest, knocking him out cold. It seemed as though that spurt of bravery and the defeat of his arch-nemesis had given England a strength he never thought he’d ever possess, as though for once he could take on the world.

        “Are you okay, America?” Arthur asked through his daze of adrenaline as a tiny voice whispered in the back of his mind. _Be his hero._

        “No,” America answered rather honestly through a soft whisper as he watched this crazy nation suddenly swing his branch at Allen like a pro. It seemed almost too good to be true. _England couldn’t be this skilled at fighting could he?_ And yet here he was running around, grazing Allen’s skin with his mini tree every time he so much as even dared to come close to the fallen country.

        “The plan doesn’t seem to be working!” Canada exclaimed, all at once, as he sprinted away from his own enemy and next to England, his face wet with sweat and with red streaks from one too many close calls. “America, if England hadn’t helped, you would be dead! I...I can’t live with that. Plus, there’s no way you’re going to be able to preform the wand breaking anymore that’s for sure. You can’t even stand up! What are we going to do...” He hung his head at a complete loss for words as he shook it from side to side in despair. That seemed to be the theme of the day, utter hopelessness that grew even worse as the trio soon felt tremors shaking the earth beneath them.

        “Well, one thing’s for sure we can’t stay in this universe any longer!” England shouted as the ground broke out into a fierce rumble. The sight threw everyone into a panic. Fights halted mid-battle, Italy screamed at the top of his lungs, and even Canada rushed towards his brother, clinging to him as he was swept off his feet by the vibrations. It was as though he was hinting that, if this truly was their last time together, he wanted to be with America until the very end, and Alfred hugged him back just as desperately despite his tired arms feeling more and more like lead weights.

        “Okay our only chance is to destroy this universe now and get out of here while we still can!” England cried at once as he managed to find a decent tree to hold on to tightly. “America, Canada’s right you sure can’t do the spell, so we’ll just have to let him do it!”

        “What?!” Canada yelled back through the roar of the shaking ground in complete disbelief at the island nation. “I can’t do that! I don’t know any magic at all. What if the wand doesn’t even except...”

        “There’s no time for this now,” England screamed before Canada could go any further. “We have to try now, America’s clearly out of it, and you’re the closest to wand. It’s got to be you! Just have America tell you the spell!”  
  
        “But...we...we can’t do that!” America blurted out weakly in a rush of strength that all at once came back to him. “We’ve got...the 2ps right where we want them. The earthquake prevents them from fighting, and...and we can get rid of them now before they can stop us! Now’s our chance to finally get rid of them—”

        “Oh, come on just tell us the real reason you’re hesitating!” Matthew lashed out all at once, shocking Alfred half-to-death as he gazed at his once calm and collected twin.

        “Wh...what?”

        “It’s been bothering me for a while now,” Canada somehow found the time to sigh despite their world ending. “You keep going on and on about finally getting rid of the 2ps once and for all before they hurt anyone else, and I’m sure that’s part of it...but there’s something else isn’t there? You’re afraid to go back. You tried to conceal it, but I could tell. I know you hate yourself for creating this curse. That’s why you didn’t want me to come along when England finally told you the truth. You blamed yourself for what happened...and you didn’t want to make things worse and hurt me more than you already had. And you’re afraid...you’re afraid that once I gain my original memories back, I’ll blame you too.”

         “I...” America began to speak but fell silent as the words escaped his lips. _He’s right isn’t he?_ Alfred couldn’t help but admit to himself. _I am afraid to go back. What if Canada hates me for creating this curse? What if he hates me for separating us? What if he hates me for these creatures I created. I’ve been nothing but a disaster haven’t I? He’s bound to hate me._ Alfred frowned deeply as his grip loosened on his twin despite the quaking earth. He just didn’t have the effort to hold on anymore, caught in a pit of misery he couldn’t drag himself out of.

        “Okay now is not the time for personal issues!” England shouted. “And I might be a bit of a hypocrite right now, that being said, but there is one thing that I do need to talk about. America, Canada—er other Canada—he did say one last thing to me before I left the other universe. Do you know what that was?”

        “No, what...what did he say?” Alfred stuttered, fearfully predicting all the terrible things he probably told England.

        “He said he loves you.”

    _He loves you._ Those words echoed in America’s brain, echoed over and over again as though he was stuck in a cave. _He loves me. He loves me. He actually loves me._ Salty tears flowed down his cheeks as the ground continued to quake furiously beneath him. It seemed in that moment that he could only focus on those tears, dripping one by one onto the shaking earth. Everything else just seemed to dissolve away around him: England, Canada, even the destruction of their universe. There was just him and those tiny water droplets and that one thought that ached in his mind. _He still loves me. That means he forgave me? He actually forgave me...”_

        “America, are you alright?” Canada murmured, a bit startled by his current state. “You don’t look so...”

        “Here take this,” America spoke abruptly, cutting him off, as he thrust the magical stick into his brother’s hand.

        “But I thought you wanted...”

        “You were right,” Alfred admitted somberly as he stared into those concerned, amethyst eyes of his twin as the ground began to crack around them. “I was afraid of going back there. I was afraid when I found out that all this was my fault, and I thought, I thought you would hate my guts...but you’ll always love me. You’ll always love me, right?”

        “Of course, you idiot,” Canada chuckled gently despite his own eyes watering as he reached to clutch America desperately. “You’ll always be my brother, always.”

        “No matter what?”

        “No matter what.”

        America smiled as he lay his head on Canada’s shoulder, hugging him as desperately as he could despite the terrible fever. And Canada hugged him back just as hard as he let his own tears fall down, mixing with America’s on the ground. For now, it was just them, holding on to each other like a life raft, as the ground decided to roar around them. All they had to do was hang on. All they had to do was be there for each other.

        “Ahem, sorry to be rude,” England shouted above the noise, “but we’re on a deadline here! Please focus on the task at hand!”

        “Oh, right,” Alfred spoke sheepishly as the brothers’ faces both flushed in embarrassment. Then he turned to his twin with determination deep in his eyes as he summoned up all of his courage. “Alright, Canada,” he ordered bravely, his gaze locked on his brother. “This is what you need to do. Say the spell ‘Santo Rita Ringo Meada Tito Jonah Marlon Jack La Toya Michael Janet Dumbledora The Explorer.’ Then you’ve got to make your wish and break the wand. It’s that simple.”

        “You call that simple!” Matthew cried as he fumbled around, struggling to hold America and preform magic at the same time. “How am I supposed to remember all of that?!” Just then a crack started to form right beneath the two of them, forcefully separating them bit by bit as the ground was ripped to pieces. The two screamed, jerking back from each other as they soon found themselves drifting apart bit by bit, much to Canada’s horror.

        “Okay you can do this,” America somehow found the ability to yell as he hastily backpedalled from the menacing crack in the earth. “Just repeat after me. Santo Rita Ringo.”

        “Santo Rita Ringo,” Canada echoed nervously, the wand shaking in his hand.

        “Meada Tito Jonah Marlon...”

        “Meada Tito Jonah Marlon.”

        “Jack La Toya.”

        “Jack La Toya.” Purple energy began to pulse around the Canadian, energy he didn’t even know he had. It surrounded him, crackling menacingly like a forcefield fighting off all the dangers that could come his way.

        “Michael Janet Dumbledora The Explorer.”

        “Michael Janet Dumbledora The Explorer,” Canada finished as the purple energy glowed brightly around him, the wall of magic getting stronger with every passing moment as he held the wand out in front of him. This time his hands weren’t trembling. No, this time they were perfectly still as he stared straight ahead at his twin, lying excruciatingly out of reach behind the crack in the earth. Courage even he didn’t know he had settled his nerves as one thought consumed his mind. _Nothing is ever, ever going to separate us ever again!_ “I wish,” he shouted as the trembling only grew louder and louder as dust and debris flew all about them. “I wish to destroy this universe!”

        His eyes were fixed on America’s face as his hand clenched around the wand. They were fixed on him as he allowed his fingers to apply pressure to the thin stick, as he ever so carefully twisted them down. There was one snap, and that’s all it took for their universe, for everything they’d ever known and everyone they’d ever loved, to get sucked into a swirling black hole of nothingness.


End file.
